


When Innocence Sleeps

by Bleu_Tsuki



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Dumbledore Bashing, Good Hermione, M/M, Manipulation, Masturbation, Mind Rape, Minor Lily Evans Potter/Severus Snape, Multi, The Mindscape, The greater good, Voyeurism, Weasley Bashing, Weasleys paid to be Friends, bad weasleys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2018-07-17 23:57:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 19
Words: 27,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7291339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bleu_Tsuki/pseuds/Bleu_Tsuki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>RATING CHANGE. HP/TR Harry's tired of playing the Gryffindor hero. Now in his sixth year, a deal with the devil has Harry questioning who he can trust. Light, Dark, Grey, easy right? But when has being the BWL ever been anything but easy?</p><p>Riddle and Harry share a mindscape. Can their relationship continue even out of the diary? Not if Voldemort and Dumbledore have anything to say about it. </p><p>Ambiguously trustworthy Snape.</p><p>**Harry is sixteen here. Kind of AU but not really, Harry's had a normal 5 years until now where it more or less takes the timeline of Book 2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When to Surrender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom gives Harry a choice.

A/N: The events leading up to this scene in the Chamber of Secrets take place in September. This story will cover sixth year and a bit of the summer. Snape is a right bastard in this one! I couldn't resist, sorry Sev. Also, I plan on this being 20 chapters at most. It will certainly be a priority of mine to finish before next September. It is different from what I'm used to writing, but not from what I'm used to reading. I suck at slash. Forgive me. Skip it if you want. It's mainly power plays anyway.

Dedicated to:

**The Fictionist** whose mastery of the English language leaves me breathless. Thank you for writing. If you need more HP/TR or HP/LV or just want to read something well written, please check out her stories!

The Judas Kiss part, while perhaps originating from the dementors, was inspired by **Ansketil and Lilacs** in their joint story **In Somno Veritas**. It was a lovely story! HP/LV as well.

* * *

  **Now at the last gasp of Love's latest breath,**  
**When, his pulse failing, Passion speechless lies,**  
**When Faith is kneeling by his bed of death,**  
**And Innocence is closing up his eyes,**  
**...**

**"Since there 's no help, come let us kiss and part"**

**by Michael Drayton**

* * *

"She doesn't have to die, you know," Tom whispered, dark eyes glinting in the torchlight. "You know why I need to do this...but it doesn't have to be this way. You could- ah...offer to make a donation."

Tom cocked his head to the side, a smile playing lightly on his lips. He regarded the Boy-Who-Lived calculatingly, reveling in the way the sixteen-year-old's body shook, though he tried to hide his fear beneath squared shoulders and a steady jaw. Both stood alone in the Chamber of Secrets, a dying girl between them. In the distance, the basilisk lay slaughtered.

Harry was covered in blood.

And still, Harry refused to show a hint of fear. Stupid Gryffindor heroism. It really was a waste of time to try when Tom could literally hear the rapid pulse of blood through Harry's scarlet veins.

Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh.

"I don't understand," Harry spoke carefully, regarding Riddle with a practiced eye. "Donation implies I won't be a carcass afterwards." He glanced pointedly at Ginny before looking at the nearly corporeal form of Tom Riddle Jr.

"So it does," Tom conceded, giving him a toothy smile to show he was pleased. Harry suppressed a shudder. If there was anything scarier than a Dark Lord in rage, it was a Dark Lord in pleasure.

Harry had been writing in Riddle's diary for little over a year now before the boys' dormitory had been broken into, ransacked, and destroyed last month. It was painfully obvious now as to who had stolen his most prized possession. The girl was paying for it now. With her life.

"Tick tock, Potter," Tom whispered, "Miss Weasley is looking quite pale, don't you agree?"

Harry swallowed. Damn him! Damn him to hell- because that's where he was going without a doubt. He just needed time to think. It was all a game to Tom, and if he was expected to make the right move, then he needed time! But Tom had seen to it that he wouldn't be getting any. Just another game, another restriction to see if Harry could jump through the hoop. And meanwhile, Ginny was dying by the second. "You're not being fair!" Harry protested, making an effort to keep his voice even, "You need to tell me exactly what I'm agreeing to, if I decide to agree to it."

Tom's mouth twisted, belying his displeasure that Harry was taking so long.

"Are you confused, Potter?" he began softly, in that voice which made Harry go weak in the knees, "Are you wondering why I'm finally here in my corporeal body when I could have done this the moment I met you? The moment you poured your soul over my sheets," Tom carefully stepped over Ginny's limp body, not wanting to taint himself with the chit. "I could have had you bleeding out your life force on the floor. Months ago. The very instant you deigned my pages with your rambling thoughts. Or perhaps you're confused because I've given you a choice. I can make it for you know, if you'd like." Again there was that feral grin, fit for a devil whose hands were grasping rapaciously over a new conquest.

Harry growled softly, looking from Ginny to Tom to Ginny. Ginny's pale, innocent, dying life, and Tom's maniac glee. Dammit. Tom was enjoying this.

"Whether she walks out of here alive is entirely up to you," Tom continued silkily. "Is making a donation really that hard of a concept? A simple yes or no should have sufficed minutes ago."

"You haven't told me what I'm donating yet," Harry reminded him harshly, emerald eyes smoldering with barely concealed frustration.

Tom took one look at him and sighed. "Isn't it obvious, my dear Harry? I need your life force."

Harry choked. "My—! I'll die!"

He couldn't possibly see how he could survive if Tom decided to do to him what was now being done to Ginny.

"You won't," Tom assured him lazily, studying his nails as if answering his petty questions was all very taxing.

"How can you be so sure?" Harry demanded, angry at Tom's apparent lack of concern. "Why does it cost Ginny her life but not mine?" Why are you doing this?-was left unspoken.

Tom's intense black eyes snapped to his. "Because you're special, Harry Potter." The way Tom said his name, as if his tongue were caressing the very syllables, sent almost delightful shivers up Harry's spine. It didn't help that Tom had advanced even more until he was nearly touching noses with the boy. "That pureblooded Weasley chit is worth nothing compared to you," Tom whispered, voice dripping of honey. "Nothing! Oh Tom, I worry Harry doesn't love me anymore. Why is he always writing in his room? Oh Tom! Oh Tom! Oh-! It's sickening!" He grimaced in disgust as if the memory was enough to make him ill. "But if you want to save her, like the good little Gryffindor you are, all you have to do is share this with me."

Tom closed the short distance between them and brought up his fingers to rest lightly upon Harry's scalp. He then proceeded to drag one long finger around the entirety of his skull, a look of utmost concentration on his angelic features.

His...head? Was Tom insane? Did he really think Harry would just let him into his mind when the last time- well the last time, Harry had woken up with blood encrusted nails and the taste of blood in his mouth. He shivered, remembering the morning after as he discovered these interesting facts. Come to think of it, he never did find out what happened that night. He wasn't really sure he wanted to.

"You want my mind?" Harry clarified blankly, trying to ignore Tom's cold fingertip as it made another trip around his head. Clincal...no, creepy. "You don't want to...suck the life out of me?"

Tom abruptly took a step back, removing his cold hand from Harry's scalp as he did so, for which Harry was grateful.

"On the contrary," Tom drawled, "I've dreamed of your death so often it has become like a fond memory of mine, the way the Avada Kedavra will reflect the same emerald green as your eyes and then snatch the color from you as you fade into death. Just...beautiful." His eyes regained their focused clarity, "But sometimes, necessity does behoove us to make sacrifices. Me, for instance. I'm accepting her unworthy life force into my veins when there is a much more powerful, a much purer, source of life inches from me. Close enough to just...take."

Harry swallowed as Tom pinned him with a predatory gaze. "So what's it going to be, boy hero?"

.oOo.

"What do I have to do?" Harry demanded, determination and fear mingling in his emerald eyes.

It was truly delicious, if Tom were completely honest. The clash of weakness and strength, the utter vulnerability that came with making a choice that condemned him solely. And Tom had made him make it himself. Tom let a smile slip onto his handsome face as he walked towards the boy once more.

"I can sense your magic, did you know that? Can you feel the thrum of power when I touch you?" Tom asked with curiosity evident in his eyes. Before Harry could even think to move away, Tom had lunged forward and seized his arm with one tight fist. Immediately, Harry felt a wash of calm pass over him, accompanied by an almost dangerous amount of confidence in his abilities.

It felt as if he could flood the entire world if he wanted to, like he could bend the wizarding world to his whim with only a few well-placed words. Mere whispers away from having every one of his dreams fulfilled. Did Dumbledore know he was no match for his power? Did Voldemort?

And just as suddenly, it was gone.

Without realizing it, Harry had shut his eyes, but now he snapped them open to meet startling black.

"I take it you felt it then?" Tom stated the obvious, looking bemused at Harry's awestruck expression. He too had felt the wave of magic, but then, he was used to large quantities of such raw power. Harry was not, if the way he was swaying was anything to go by. He had hardly unlocked any of his potential.

Tom frowned. He would be sure to remedy that. "I need you to search in your head for the area which connects you and me. Only then can I meld with your mind."

Harry swallowed. Meld with your mind. Had he really thought this one out?

"Of course..." Tom remarked lightly, picking up on his hesitation, "you can still decline this course of action, if you wish. Miss Weasley is just about used up, so I recommend deciding now."

"I'll do it!" Harry shouted vehemently. "Just give me a second!"

He squeezed his eyes shut, furiously searching for any connection he had with Tom. He hated Tom for making him do this. Maybe if it was just the two of them alone in his room together and Tom had casually asked him a favor one day, he would consider it. But here, Harry felt like Tom had stripped away his will with clever manipulations. He knew the other boy lived and breathed for plays of dominance, but Ginny's life was on the line and even Harry Potter knew when to surrender.

Everything in his mind was pitch black. What the hell did Tom expect him to see? But then in the distance, he felt a presence which was altogether foreign and innate. It reminded him of all the times Tom had taken him through his memories, and Harry grabbed it with all his might. "I've got it," Harry murmured.

"Don't let go," Tom whispered in his ear. "Focus on our connection. Remember, you agreed to this."

And suddenly, Harry was tugged forward so that he was pressed up against a hard body which was far too realistically warm for his liking. An arm snaked up to grasp a fistful of his unruly black hair, another hand rising to caress his cheek. The thrumming sensation was back as Tom pressed himself against him, molding their bodies together. He could barely focus on that little area of his mind when the magic began to flare.

Tom's lips were upon him, tearing thoughts from his mind as they scattered and fled.

Harry moaned as his body was unwillingly (or was it willingly?) conquered. It shouldn't have felt this good. This was Tom, here after all. Sure, they had experimented quite a bit as psychical dominance was a favorite weapon in Tom's arsenal. But why did it have to feel so bloody good? This was Tom. This was the Tom that had Ginny paling on the floor...

It had to be the magic, Harry tried to convince himself. His body couldn't possibly be reacting to this of its own accord. This was Tom. Tom deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue down Harry's throat as far as it would go, causing the boy-who-lived to go limp in his embrace. Harry had half a mind to bite Tom, but then where would that lead him? With Ginny dead and the possibility of doing this all over again. And it did feel so good...

It was the need for air which ultimately spurred Harry to start flailing against the other boy. His hands found Tom's hard chest and he began to push, but it was like pushing against a mountain. When Tom still refused to acknowledge him, he began to claw. Harry hoped to Merlin he wasn't too late to save Ginny even as his vision began to black out. With one final shove, Harry felt the obstacle give way, and then, he wasn't leaning against anything at all.

* * *

A/N: So how was it? This is the fourth draft of this scene since I couldn't quite get it right. I'm not used to writing any physical...affection, but I certainly want to try! Let me know what you think about Harry and Tom's relationship. Is it too one-sided? Next chapter has more of a balance I think. I'll answer any questions next chapter, but for now, please review!


	2. Confrontations - When to Lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confrontations- Ginny is convinced. Dumbledore and Snape suspect something is amiss.

**"Thou art my life, my love my heart,**

**The very eyes of me:**

**And hast command of every part**

**To live and die for thee."**

**...**

**"To Anthea, who may command Him Anything"**

**by Robert Herrick**

* * *

Harry stumbled forward, eyes jolted open, hands thrust out before him to be met with the hard ground below. Urgh...his head was pounding terribly and all he really wanted to do was sleep.

"Tom?" he called. "Tom?" Where had that boy disappeared to? Why assault him and then just as readily drop him? Not that he cared. Tom was still a bastard. "TOM?"

_Sweet Salazar, I'm right here,_ Tom drawled clearly.

"What? Tom?" Harry began to panic. It was scary enough with the young Dark Lord in sight and it was absolutely terrifying when he was nowhere to be seen. "TOM! Answer me! TOM!"

_I just told you-_

And that's when it hit him. It had worked. Whatever it was, if it was some sort of dark ritual with...that tongue and had he _moaned_? He flushed deeply as the emotions again coursed through him.

_Enjoyed the ritual, did you?_ Tom remarked snidely.

"Shut up. I still have no idea what you did," Harry growled, frustrated. "And it wasn't my wish to be physically assaulted. Don't think I'll forgive you anytime soon."

_That bulge in your pants tells otherwise,_ Tom said amused. Harry flushed again and was about to retort when Tom remarked, _Ah, I think the princess is waking up._

.oOo.

"H-Harry?" Ginny groaned awake, spotting the emerald-eyed savior watching her with concern. She tried to sit up but the world spun and she ended up falling back down on her elbow.  "Ow!"

"G-ginny?" Harry asked gently, "Is that you? Are you alright? Let me help you." He stuck out his hand to help her up, but as she touched him Harry felt a sharp pain in his scar.

_Mine!_

His hand quickly retreated before he registered what had just happened. Had Tom gotten jealous? Of course he had, Harry groaned. Well, he didn't have time to deal with Tom's quirkiness right now. He had to put on the bloody show of a life time and he needed all his wits about him to do it.

_Shut up, Tom. I need to act naturally, okay?_

"Harry?" Ginny was looking at him strangely, "Why are your clothes so bloody?"

"Um- I killed a Basilisk." He bent his head, blushing bashfully.

"A basilisk!" _So it wasn't a dream_ , Ginny thought. _I really did let Tom possess me and he really did make me release Slytherin's monster all those times._

"Yeah, don't worry about it," Harry said quickly, succeeding this time in helping her to her feet. "C-come on, let's get out of here-"

"Wait-" Ginny said urgently.

Something in her voice had Harry on edge. Did she know? Could she know?

_Don't be daft, Harry. No one knows about the ritual but me. Well, us._

"How could you defeat a fully grown Basilisk all on your own?" Ginny questioned. Her eyes surveyed the floor, looking for something, before coming to rest on the shabby notebook shoved in the crook of Harry's arm.

"I-" _Lie to her,_ Tom coaxed, _You can't possibly tell her that I helped you._ "-am a wizard you know," Harry lied easily, flashing her a tentative smile. "Now do you want to question me all night or do you want to get out of here?"

Ginny flushed, "Yeah, let's go."

Her fears were misplaced she knew, but something just didn't sit right. She noticed as they walked that Harry had shifted the diary to his hands, and really it _was_ in Harry's possession before Ginny stole it...but she knew how persuasive Riddle could be. Ginny's blush deepened. Oh yes, she knew, and she couldn't help but feel, as she watched the way that Harry's fingers curled possessively around the book, that Harry knew too.

_She's on to us,_ Tom hissed as they walked out of the main chamber.

_How can you tell?_ Harry asked back. As far as he was concerned, Ginny knew nothing of what had transpired.

_Her footsteps are wavering. Also, she has her wand to your back._

Tom could look behind him? Harry decided not to question it for now. He'd discover the extent of what Tom did to him soon enough. But for now...slowly, Harry turned around, his emerald eyes shining in the torchlight.

"Ginny?" he asked smoothly, torn between letting his authority show for once or feigning absolute ignorance. Indeed, her wand was aimed for his back but as he observed her, she crumbled into tears.

"I didn't mean to do anything, Harry!" Ginny sobbed, "I just wanted to be prepared in case- in case-" she hiccupped.

"Ginny-" Harry said warningly. He closed the gap between them with powerful strides. "You weren't just thinking that I'd been enchanted, were you? Especially not by Tom Riddle."

By the way she fiercely shook her head, Harry wagered that she had. "Ginny," he said softly, "Did he ever tell you who he became?"

Ginny again shook her head, her bright eyes shining with tears.

"He became Lord Voldemort."

The girl shuddered and stifled a gasp. "Oh my god, Harry! I am- so _so_ sorry!" Her face crumbled further. "If I had known! If-If! I have absolutely no right to suspect you of doing anything with him! Forgive me, Harry! He never told me!"

"And why would he? He's such a bastard. He didn't tell me either," Harry confided truthfully, as Tom had written it to him in a completely nonverbal transaction. "I read it somewhere."

Carefully, he encircled his arms around Ginny in what she perceived was a comforting gesture, but Harry knew it was more akin to a boa wrapping around its prey. They stayed like that, just embracing for a minute as Ginny's heart rate returned to normal.

_See? She's not a threat,_ Harry told him. Tom begrudgingly agreed.

As Ginny and Harry reached the entrance, they saw Fawkes beating his wings against an invisible barrier in the distance. Tom radiated smugness. He knew it had been a good idea to set up those wards. Ginny frowned in confusion but did not ask a single question more of Harry as they passed through the barrier and held tightly onto Fawkes' colorful tail feathers.

.oOo.

Harry didn't recall telling anyone of his intention to rescue Ginny, so it was a surprise when Fawkes dropped them off in the center of a crowd of teachers.

Ginny shook like a leaf beside him, be he didn't pay any attention to her. He was too focused on resuming his subservient stance, getting the trembling in his limbs just right for when the headmaster's icy blue eyes locked onto him.

The first people to react were Ginny's parents. Their eyes were red and puffy, but brightened considerably upon seeing their daughter alive and whole. "Ginny!" They rushed to her; wrapping her in a warm hug oddly opposite to the one Harry had just given her.

While they fawned over their only daughter, Harry stood awkwardly. He had no family. What did they expect him to do? He unconsciously clutched Tom's diary closer to his body, a movement which went unnoticed by all except Snape.

_Damn, Severus probably recognizes this diary as Lucius',_ Tom growled. _I really need to talk to Lucius about flaunting my possessions._

At that moment, Snape whispered something in the headmaster's ear and Harry got a sinking feeling in his gut as both men turned to him.

"Harry, my boy. Why don't we return to my office and you can tell us what happened?" His blue eyes twinkled, but held a kind of steel in them that left no room for objection.

"I should think not!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed out of nowhere. "He needs to rest! Just look at him! Blood all over his clothes!"

But Albus silenced her with a hand. "Harry?" he repeated, more sternly this time. "You will see Madam Pomfrey after we have had our discussion." His voice was not loud but radiated authority. For the second time that day, someone had stripped him of his choice.

Harry hung his head. It was like he had broken a rule or something, not just saved a girl from certain death! Admittedly he had broken curfew...and maybe participated in a Dark ritual which let Voldemort cohabit his mind, but there was no way the headmaster could have known that. Right?

_They could have felt the magic,_ Tom mused, considering. _It's fairly unique I should think._

_So what am I supposed to say?_ Harry demanded.

_Lie, of course._

"Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore's face was inches from his own, his eyes brimming with concern. "Are you feeling alright, Mr. Potter? You seemed to have spaced out a little there."

"I- I'm fine," Harry stuttered, thankful that his weak persona was known for being ineloquent.

"Good. Then Severus, if you could kindly follow us? Everyone, you may join us in a minute. I imagine you would like to have some time alone with your daughter?"

Harry wasn't stupid. He knew why Dumbledore wanted him alone and why he chose Snape to take up the rear. It was to keep Harry from escaping- a sign which did not bode well for the upcoming conversation.


	3. Lemon Drop - When to Relinquish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry holds the diary a little too tightly. Snape notices.

**For the sword outwears its sheath,**

**And the soul wears out the breast,**

**And the heart must pause to breathe,**

**And love itself have rest.**

**...**

**"So We'll Go No More a Roving"**

**by Lord Byron**

* * *

"Lemon drop?" Dumbledore offered politely as they entered the office.

Harry shook his head. He reeked of decaying basilisk. Of course he didn't want a damned lemon drop!

Dumbledore sighed. "Oh well. Harry, if you could take a seat?" As Harry did so, he saw Albus nod for Severus to stand behind him.

He could feel Tom tensing, the bloodlust rising to the surface. If he could, Harry had no doubt that Tom would lunge across the table and rip the headmaster open with his bare teeth. Thankfully, Harry was in control here, and he had no desire to see any more blood that night.

"So, Harry. That was quite some luck to locate the Chamber of Secrets on your first try. Especially in the time that you did." His blue eyes were twinkling madly behind his spectacles.

Harry met him full on, confident that his occlumency shields would hold.

"Yes, any later and I d-don't think Ginny would have made it," Harry admitted shyly, effectively diverting the conservation.

Dumbledore's smile wavered a bit, but Harry still did not feel the tendrils of legilimency at his brain. He rarely did. Dumbledore had too much honor after all to scour helpless children, but sometimes there was an occasional brush...

"What I mean to say," Dumbledore began again, "Is how did you know where the entrance was located?"

Harry blinked back at him, then leaned forward in his seat. "I-" he swallowed purposefully, "D-did Professor Snape ever tell you about...about well my _condition_?" He let his emerald eyes flicker up once in a silent plea, noting with some satisfaction that Dumbledore frowned over his chair at his accomplice.

"I think he is referring to his fluency in Parseltongue, Albus," Severus sneered lazily with an apparent roll of his eyes.

"Ah, yes," Albus said, the twinkle back. "Yes, he did."

"Well," Harry blushed. "I don't like to talk about it. It makes me feel different, you know? But I k-kept hearing this voice in the wall- I knew it was a snake of course- and I followed it to the girls' bathroom. From there, Moaning Myrtle told me about the sink that had never worked- she knows that because, well um, you know how she likes to flood the bathrooms..." He glanced up hopefully at the headmaster, willing him to buy his story.

"Yes, I can see why you would conceal that knowledge until absolutely necessary, Harry," Albus said indulgingly. "It's perfectly natural to want to fit in with your friends."

Harry gave him a watery smile. _Yes, yes! Take the bait!_

"But that still doesn't explain why you have the diary of Tom Riddle in your hands," Albus said, a frown forming on his ancient face. "Care to explain how you've come by such an unusual object?"

"Unusual object, headmaster?"

_Shit! Shit! Shit!_

_Stay calm_ , Tom growled.

"Have you...ever written in it at all?" Albus asked. "Ever?"

Harry felt the first brushes of legilimency against his throbbing mind. He carefully revealed an image of the trashed dormitory after Ginny had stolen his book.

"No," Harry said with just the right touch of chagrin. "I was going to, but before I could, it had been stolen from me. I found it lying beside Ginny today and picked it up because I recognized it...Is something the matter, sir?" he couldn't help but intone as the headmaster smashed against his mind.

His story was perfectly believable. Why then was the headmaster doubling his efforts at breaking his shields?

 _You're holding my diary too tightly_ , Tom chided, _he suspects you're attached to it. I admit I'm rather touched, but you should relax your grip now._

Suddenly, the book was yanked out of his hands by Severus Snape.

"The little brat is lying!" Snape hissed, standing triumphantly as Albus jumped to scan the book with his wand.

"But I'm not!" Harry protested indignantly.

Albus continued to wave his wand over the book despite his words, but there was simply nothing to detect. Harry felt the satisfaction rolling off of the Dark Lord in dark seductive waves.

"Are you sure, my boy?" Albus asked, but it was directed at Severus and not at him.

"Positive. I vividly recall Lucius bragging about it and that recent pulse of magic was unmistakable."

_Pulse of magic..._

"Do you feel any such presence now?" Albus asked, seeming to have forgotten Harry was there.

Snape frowned, regarding the book. "No," he admitted reluctantly, which pleased Harry immensely. Unfortunately, this just made Snape angrier.

"What did you do?" he growled, suddenly inches from Harry's face. "You can't deny that there was a pulse of Dark Magic coming from the Chamber!"

_Tell him that when the basilisk died it expelled a magical force, as if an enchantment had been broken. Do it now!_

"There was a-" Harry said quickly. "I mean, when I killed the basilisk, there was a large magical force that pulsed out of it. As if it had been under an enchantment. To, um, kill muggleborns."

Albus frowned, lost in thought. He probably knew of plenty of enchantments that could have been from Salazar or Voldemort himself designed to make the beast selectively kill muggleborns. Snape was not so easily bought.

"Potter, there is no way you can expect me to believe that a schoolboy has defeated a fully grown basilisk! Surely you can see that he's lying, headmaster?"

"Lying about what?" a voice demanded from the doorway. Ginny Weasley stood boldly in the entrance, though her own small trembling hand was slipped in her mother's. "Harry Potter _saved_ my life! If it weren't for him my body would still be down there, rotting! How dare you accuse him of lying!"

Clearly affected by her daughter, the Weasley matriarch went off on a rant of her own.

"Albus! This is insane! The boy clearly needs medical attention! –"

 _Maybe the Weasleys are good for something_ , Tom smirked.

Albus flushed lightly. "Thank you, Harry, for humoring me in answering my questions. You are free to leave."

But Harry noticed that the headmaster kept the diary on his desk and made no indication of giving it back.

"The diary?" Harry couldn't stop himself from asking wistfully.

 _Idiot! Leave the diary!_ Tom yelled.

"Will be returned to Mr. Malfoy at the trial," Albus said forcefully. "He will learn never to harm my students again."

 _Thank Merlin he didn't get suspicious!_ Harry thought. _That was stupid of me._

 _Very,_ Tom said.

Luckily, Snape did not comment on his slip up and Harry was led out of the room by a very irritated Madam Pomfrey.

"All covered in blood," she muttered, "Don’t worry, dear, we'll have you sorted out in no time."


	4. The Other Neighbor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry meets the original soul shard Voldemort gave to him.

**I hear you turning your thoughts off**

**I turn mine off too**

**The only thing I hear is you**

**And you don't sound nice and you don't sound right**

**And you don't sound good and you don't sound right**

**...**

**"Pavlov's Daughter"**

**by Regina Spektor**

* * *

 

Harry's head hit the pillow the exact moment he was pulled from his body and into his dreamscape. Could he not get a rest?

Apparently not, as Tom Riddle sauntered up to him, dark eyes ablaze with...something. Harry wasn't sure. Love? Lust? A desire to own? To dominate?

Riddle licked his lips. "You soul is quite a treat to live beside," he began in a deep tone. "That is, if you don't mind the other neighbor."

Harry frowned in confusion. Other...neighbor?

Riddle picked up on his confusion and gestured elegantly to a region off to the side. It was dark there, unlike the warm light that remained in the center. He wasn't sure why he had such a horrible feeling about glancing to his left, but he knew he had never done so before.

"Go on," Tom breathed in his ear. Harry sucked in a breath. When had he gotten so close? "There's nothing to fear, boy hero. I'm right here behind you..."

Harry steeled himself, ready to fight if need be, before turning fully to face the third region of his soul.

Harry had to stifle a gasp as the malformed creature blinked opened its burning red eyes.

"What is that?" Harry asked quietly, afraid to startle the creature.

"That was precisely the same reaction I had upon finding him." Tom drawled. "I can assure you he isn't quite me, mostly perhaps, but not fully. He's _developing_."

That's when Harry first noticed the gleaming chains binding the creature's feet to the ground. The chains were golden and clanked softly like a thousand dazzling bells whenever the creature moved.

"I don't understand," Harry murmured, "He can't be part _me_ , can he?"

Tom played with a slightly longer piece of Harry's hair. "Can he, indeed? You see, Harry, while I was quite aware of the risks absorbing my own soul would incur, I had not considered what could happen if something else had already occupied what little wiggle room your body can hold. It causes quite a problem, you see?"

Harry froze as Tom suddenly turned his brilliant black eyes on him. "You're saying you can't stay here," Harry realized. "That there's not enough room."

Tom's eyes glinted. "First of all, he would be the one to be expelled not _me_. Second of all, the choice is quite literally out of my hands. Did you happen to notice what his feet were attached to?"

"Chains?" Harry questioned, looking back at the creature.

"And the chains to-?" Tom asked softly.

Harry blinked. They were attached to the floor, weren't they? Glancing back at the creature, Harry noticed that the chains were indeed attached to the floor, but they also extended far beneath it. Harry traced the path of the bright yellow glow with his eyes until they found his own and Riddle's feet.

Harry groaned. "We are so fucked."

Tom smirked, "It appears your little friend craves company. I take it you have been unaware of his presence?"

Harry sniffed, "Not unaware exactly. I just never looked over there. Is that what these chains mean? He just wants to bind us to him?"

"A bit more than bind," Tom whispered. "He wants to _blend_ with one of us. Meld his soul to one of ours." Tom dragged his cold fingertips across Harry's cheek.

"Which one of us?" Harry asked in a hoarse whisper.

"Whichever one he can get to first. But I assure you it won't be me."

"Why not?"

"Because he wants to kill you, that's why. And if I were to merge with him then _I_ might want to kill you. And then where would we be?"

"What about me? He can't combine with me if he wants to kill me!"

"On the contrary, he would love to bind with you. He only wants to eliminate any potential threat. If he becomes you, or part of you, then he really won't pose any danger and you won't really be a threat."

Harry frowned at this twisted piece of logic. Melding souls with his potential murderer was not his preferred course of action. Then again, he had already done it once tonight, what was one more?

"And we can't obliterate him, because-?"

"The chains," Tom said simply. "We would all just die."

Harry sighed. "Fine, how do we get this over with?"

"The same way you absorbed my soul, Harry," Tom licked his lips. "With a kiss."

"I still don’t understand that one. I thought dementors were the only soul suckers, not us," Harry huffed.

"Ah, Dementors do always seem to get the credit for the Kiss of Death. But it can just as easily be called the Kiss of Life."

"You are making absolutely no sense," Harry stated coldly. "I'm not a dementor and I don't know how you expect me to just kiss all my enemies."

"It's called a Judas Kiss," Tom chuckled, "And if you honestly can't remember the amount of power we stirred up from our kiss earlier today then maybe you need a reminder."

Tom pulled Harry's face to his, his right hand coming to tangle itself in Harry's mop of black hair, the other hand caressing Harry's exposed neck. Harry gasped as Tom's tongue slipped inside his mouth. It really wasn't fair. Tom easily dominated the kiss and all Harry could do was mewl helplessly as his body was taken. Tom's hands went to playing down his spine and then dangerously low across his back. Harry could feel himself giving in, melting as he always did to the other's advances. Tom pulled away first, much to Harry's immediate frustration. Their faces were flushed and each was breathing rather heavily. Harry groaned.

"Play time’s over, boy hero," Tom gave him a devilish grin. "Go on."

Harry nodded without really thinking as he approached the third part of his soul. The creature's scarlet eyes blinked snake-like at him as he approached. The mouth curved upward in a sinister welcome, dark magic surrounding the creature like a fog. Harry swallowed, hyperaware of the golden chains which rattled as he walked forward.

"Harry Potter," the creature grinned. Its ghastly pale hands reaching out for him, its hand-like appendages turning into claws. The more Harry stared, the more the creature seemed to become less human.

"What are you?" Harry whispered, stopping to stand a few feet away.

"I think you know who I am, boy," the creature said softly, its blazing scarlet eyes set into its white face like two rubies. Still, its hands did not stop reaching. Harry felt the bonds at his feet tugging him forward slightly. He had to do this, for Tom.

"Ok, let's do this," Harry said and leaned inside its range of reach.

Immediately, the arms wound their way tightly around Harry's waist, effectively trapping him against the other's granite-hard chest. Then with a last smile, the creature's mouth descended. Harry expected lips and tongue and teeth. What he got was mind numbing pain. That cold mouth latched itself onto his and devoured everything it could. Pieces of Harry chipped off and dissolved, going- Harry assumed -down the one-way chute into the creature's stomach. Harry began to pound on the creature's horribly scaly back. His lips stung as _it_ bit him, conveying rage, fury, and obsession, all at once. But no matter what he did, the kiss did not end, and the creature was very much in front of him. Not 'melding' as Riddle had promised.

Well, he wasn't about to let himself just be devoured bit by bit. At first, he had assumed he would get it all back. But now it seemed like _he_ was the one melding into the creature! With renewed vigor, Harry began to move. He slithered his own tongue inside the other's hot mouth and then dug his nails as hard as he could into the creature's back. He hoped to show the creature who was really boss, but it seemed to find strength in Harry's interest and a pain erupted over his left hip like someone had slashed him open.

His movements became frantic. He bit down on the creature's lip, hard, wincing as blood flowed over his tongue. The taste was...oddly sweet, not normal blood by any means. And it just kept coming. Blood began to flow freely from the wound and into Harry's body. He felt the heat pooling in his stomach. The creature began to weaken. Instinctively, Harry took control and leaned against the other until he was nearly on top of him, pinning the creature's hands above its head. He would never have dared to do this with Tom, but this was different. He _needed_ to win.

The blood began to flow more thickly and more slowly. Harry forced himself to swallow down the last gulps, taking the essence of the creature within him. He had no idea what effects this would have on him outside of his mindscape, but he could only focus on the pure relief flowing through him. When the last drop was consumed, Harry fell down onto nothingness. The holes in his mind were suddenly filled again and the pain searing across his back where the creature had touched him was slowly numbing.

A hand was placed on his shoulder and Harry could only weakly look up through his lashes.

"That was quite a show, Mr. Potter," Tom smiled, laughter in his eyes, "but I'm afraid we're going to have to cut this meeting a little short." Harry was startled as Tom pressed a light kiss to the back of his head. "Well done, boy hero."

 


	5. Avoidance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom needs a body. Madam Pince is charmed.

**A hue and cry waiting to blow**  
**Under your skin, wherever you go**  
**Still I wish that I knew**  
**The taste of something that good.**

**...**

**"Tokka"**

**by Agnes Obel**

* * *

The weeks following Harry's absorption of not one, but two, of Voldemort's horcruxes were marked by a vacillation of mood. Harry used to keep to himself before the incident, writing to Tom ironically enough, but now he had no such excuse- Dumbledore made it very clear he was never going to get the diary back. Harry tried not to feel like he had just lost a friend. Tom was _with_ him, after all.

It still hurt though.

Hermione and Ron were suddenly very eager to talk to him, especially now that he was again in everybody's good graces. The Prophet had written a rather generous piece about the savior of Wizarding World saving a damsel in distress. Needless to say, everyone began to treat Harry with a sort of deferential respect. His friends, however, decided they should take some time _not_ attached at the mouth to look at him. Hermione insisted that they had lost so much time together and she wanted to get to know Harry better. And Ron, he had the inane impression that he _owed_ Harry for what he did to Ginny.

"Harry, mate, you saved my sister!" Ron said as Harry approached the Gryffindor table, "Of course I saved you a seat!" He happily patted the empty spot beside him, flashing Hermione a look that begged for her approval. Hermione gave them both a slight smile.

 _I'm so tired of this,_ Harry muttered.

_Couldn't agree more, boy hero. But we must endure. Dumbledore is watching._

Harry had long since stopped trying to figure out how Tom knew such things. Instead, he slipped down in the seat beside his former best friend and helped himself to some French toast.

"Really Ron, anyone would have done the same thing," Harry said, trying to look bashful.

Hermione gave an exasperated sigh. "Harry, you're special! And you really should be happier. Why don't you come down to Hogsmeade with Ron and me today? I know we've been spending a lot of time alone to- well- you know," a light blush had stained her cheeks, "but we really would love to spend more time with you. I feel like we've been separated for a long time!"

"Well, Harry's no longer writing in his diary anymore," Ron said, buttering his toast. "That sure took up a lot of his time."

Harry tried not to grimace.

"That's so great you finished it," Hermione said, completely ignoring Harry's sullen expression. "Sometimes you just need to live and not reflect so much. You can waste an entire life away in thought."

"Says you!" Ron snorted, egg bits flying everywhere.

The two lovebirds continued their friendly banter, effectively ostracizing Harry again. He grinned along with them, acutely aware of Dumbledore's prying eyes on him this time, and tried to enjoy the conversation as best he could.

"So twelve o'clock, yes?" Hermione asked one last time.

Harry glanced up at her through his bangs. "Yes, of course."

When they were gone, Harry exited the Great Hall as discreetly as he could. He didn't know how much longer he could stand his friends trying to budge their way back into his life. They weren't mean per se, just, so damn irritating. Like maggots or flies constantly at his back.

.oOo.

Harry wandered around the corridors. He must have passed Sir Arthur five times already and the knight was starting to give him concerned looks.

 _Lost?_ Tom asked simply, amusement delicately twisting the end of the word. Harry imagined he was grinning.

 _There's nothing to do_ , Harry retorted, _You of all people should know I usually write to you during this time._

There was a momentary pause. _Ah, I see,_ was all Tom said. _Why don't you go down to the library?_

 _I doubt anything will interest you in there. Dumbledore took everything out that's remotely dark, even in the Restricted Section. You had me check, remember?_ Harry snorted as he remembered their first botched attempt of Tom controlling Harry's body beneath the invisibility cloak. Tom was not amused.

 _Not all light magic is light,_ Tom replied in a lecturing tone. _And on the contrary, there is something I think will interest us greatly. A new interest in light of our recent developments._

_And that would be-?_

_I need a body._

Harry nearly tripped over his own two feet. _You-you what-!_ Harry sputtered. _I donated my fucking mind so that you wouldn't have to-_

 _And who said anything about stealing a body?_ Tom responded, bemused. _And start walking, those first years just threw us odd looks._

Harry glanced around him and just caught the scared glimpses of two first year girls. They giggled into their tiny hands and raced each other out of his sight. Harry groaned.

 _Don't worry, they aren't true threats,_ Tom soothed him. _As I was saying, my prior plans have changed. Before, I was content to use the Weasley chit's energy to build my corporeal form, but then you came along and well-_ he licked his lips - _one simply does not pass up the chance to kiss the savior of the Wizarding World._

Harry tried not to growl at him. _Trust me, I wasn't planning on it either,_ he snarled acidly.

 _But now that I have apparently promised you I wouldn't be doing '_ that' _anymore, there really only is one solution. That we create a new body for myself._

Harry frowned, a crease forming between his eyebrows. _Is that even possible?_ Harry asked, _I mean. It's just that you haven't had a body in so long. There can't be two Lord Voldemort's running around here-_

 _Why not?_ Tom asked simply. _Weirder things have happened. And as I said, this is light magic. We should be able to find it before the week is out. I think it's a potion, but I'm not entirely sure. I never exactly planned to gain another body. Maybe my older self has, but it's not something I was particularly focused on as a sixteen year old-_

 _Yes, I know. You were focused on splitting your soul and dominating the Wizarding World like every other normal sixteen year old,_ Harry grinned.

_Quite._

They had reached the doors of the library and Harry slipped inside. He saw Madam Pince flipping through a dusty tome at the back desk, and a few pairs of Ravenclaws getting started on their Sunday morning homework load. It didn't come as a surprise that no Gryffindors had infiltrated the library yet. Not since Hermione had gotten her _petit ami_.

 _Where do I go?_ Harry asked him.

 _The Potions' Section first,_ Tom instructed him, _there, on the left._

Harry made his way over to the designated shelf and began to scan the titles. He had admittedly never paid much attention to this section of the library and found himself at a loss when confronted by so many books at once. It wasn't like Potions was really worth studying- Snape would hate him no matter what he did.

 _What am I looking for anyway?_ Harry asked again. _Nothing here screams 'resurrection' to me!_

Tom rolled his eyes.

_Keep searching..._

Harry continued to roam the shelves, his fingers playing lightly across the spines. Most of the books were worn and old, with fraying covers stitched together by magic. He felt eyes suddenly at his back, and he looked up to snatch a glimpse of Madam Pince looking at him.

"Was there anything you needed, Mr. Potter?" she asked, "I'm sure I'll be able to find it. Librarians, after all, are here for a reason."

Her warm smile encouraged Harry to open his mouth. "I-" Then he abruptly shut it.

 _Speak! She's waiting!_ Tom urged.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?"

"I- Well, I'm not very good at potions," he began. Wasn't that the greatest understatement of the century? "But I was wondering if there was a book about erm-" he pretended to fumble for words, "for, um, _corporeal forms_."

He leaned in like he was sharing some great secret with the librarian, aware that there were others in the library.

Madam Pince frowned in thought. "That's quite an unusual topic, young man. Do you have a signed permission form to check out a book from the Restricted Section?"

"Well," Harry flushed slightly, "I'm not really supposed to talk about it. You see, Professor Dumbledore-"

"Oh, well that changes everything!" With a beaming smile, she strode over to the Restricted Section and unlocked the barrier with a wave of her wand. Harry was torn between annoyance that everyone bowed to Dumbledore and excitement that it had ironically worked in their favor. Madam Pince turned around to face him, "Good luck, Mr. Potter," and left.

Harry turned back towards the books. Well, that had been surprisingly easy. All it had cost was a smug librarian, and she wasn't bound to get suspicious and spill his secrets. Besides, there was nothing to indict him.

 _I'm impressed_ , Tom purred bemused. _I thought we would have to resort to your father's cloak tonight._

His voice made Harry's lips twitch up in a slight smile.

 _I was supposed to be in Slytherin, you know,_ he smirked.

_Which probably explains why I like you so much..._


	6. Thrice Damned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron gets jealous. Again.

 

**And I took all the blame out of all sense and reason,**   
**Until I cried and trembled and rocked to and fro,**   
**Riddled with light. Ah! when the ghost begins to quicken,**

**...**

**"The Cold Heaven"**

**by W.B. Yeats**

* * *

 

Harry, who had been reaching for a rather large black tome on his toes, nearly fell over. His cheeks were tinged pink, from what he wasn't sure.

Tom sighed, _Well, when you're done playing around, that book on the right seems promising..._

.oOo.

A low rumble broke through his consciousness. Harry woke up groggily, glasses crushed against his face, digging into the bridge of his nose, messy black hair even messier, plastered to his neck. His stomach growled again.

 _You're up,_ was all Tom said, sounding neither pleased nor angry.

 _I-_ Harry righted his glasses on his nose and swept a hand through his hair in an attempt to tame it. _How long was I out?_

Tom hummed pleasantly, _Not more than two hours I should think._

Harry stretched his arms behind his back, feeling a satisfying pop as his muscles awakened. He chanced a look at his watch and blinked blearily at it.

12:57

With a jolt, he realized why he was feeling so uneasy. Hermione. Ron.

"Shit!" he hissed softly, piling all five books into his bag after shrinking them considerably. He raced out of the library unnoticed- Madam Pince was in her office- and trudged towards Gryffindor tower.

"Gillyweed," he muttered to the Fat Lady who swung open with a blaring E sharp from her lips. He clambered through the portrait hole, intent on hiding his findings and running out to Hogsmeade. The sight that met him stopped him in his tracks. Hermione, Ron, and Ginny were sitting on the couch facing the portrait hole, each with varying degrees of irritation.

Hermione was looking at him with a calculating expression, while Ron looked a little bit too much like a kicked puppy. Ginny just gave him a small relieved smile.

"Hey Harry," Ginny said softly, relief that he was uninjured flooding her voice. Harry gave a half wave in return.

"Hi," he said awkwardly, moving further into the common room. "What's going on?" He nearly winced as he realized what he had just said.

"What's going on?" Ron imitated him bitterly, "What's wrong is that you promised to show up in Hogsmeade and never did. We waited for _hours_ in the freezing cold, waiting for you!"

"You could have waited inside," Harry pointed out before he could help himself.

"We thought you were only going to be a few minutes late," Hermione said with a frown. "What kept you?"

"I- fell asleep," Harry muttered, eyes cast down at the floor.

Ron huffed. "It's Sunday, Harry. I know for a fact you went to bed early last night! You can't lie to me! I'm your best mate!"

Harry looked at him, "I'm not lying, Ron. I just fell asleep, that's all..." he kept his voice calm and slightly chastised. Inside his blood was broiling. How dare they question him!

"You fell asleep outside your dormitory?" Hermione asked, eyebrows raised.

"I was in the library," Harry offered.

"You couldn't have been," Hermione was shaking her head, "I checked there."

"In the Restricted Section," Harry added.

"Oh, I didn't check there," Hermione nodded, face brightening. "Check out any good books?"

"Ye- No," Harry said, blushing at his slip up. Damn, they were making him feel guilty, and it hadn't even been his fault. Ron latched onto it like a parasite.

"Which is it, Harry?" Ron asked nastily, "Or maybe, you were never in the library at all!"

"I- Why would I lie?" Harry asked them softly, his voice wavering at the prospect of losing his _best_ friends. He could feel Tom's amusement at his performance and tried to ignore him.

"Oh, I don't know. Enjoying your new fame!" Ron sneered, "Everyone in Hogsmeade was talking about it. The Boy-Who-Lived!"

"I'm s-sorry! You know I don't enjoy that."

"Yeah? Then where were you? I bet you ditched us!" Ron snapped.

"Ron!" Hermione chastised, "I'm sure Harry's not lying. Right, Harry? Come on, show us the books you checked out."

"I-"

"See, Hermione! He's such a liar!"

"Harry?" Hermione was pleading with him, hand on Ron's shoulder. "You went to the library. Didn't you check out some books?"

Harry continued to look forlornly at the floor.

_I hate them. I hate them. I hate them. I hate them. They call themselves my friends. I shouldn't have to prove anything!_

Ron snarled and wrenched his shoulder out of Hermione's mollifying grip.

"I need to leave. If Harry's too good to hang out with us anymore now that he does _one_ heroic deed, I don’t want to be with him either!" The redhead stomped out with all the refined grace of a Weasley, leaving Hermione looking unhappily after him.

Hermione then turned her gaze towards Harry, as if suspecting Harry had lied about taking out some books all along and had purposefully caused this mess. _This is all your fault_ , she seemed to say as her eyes hardened to piercing daggers. Stepping carefully past Harry, she exited the portrait hole after Ron.

 _What pleasant friends,_ Tom sneered. Harry brushed it away.

There was only Ginny left in the room. She gave him a pitiful shrug. "They've actually been worried about you, believe it or not. Thought Death Eaters or Malfoy had gotten to you when you didn't show up."

"Oh," Harry said. "I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't," Ginny sighed, "Be patient. You know how Ron is, and now that Ron and Hermione are a couple..." She looked up at him with her round, brown eyes. "You really did fall asleep? In the library?"

"Y-yeah," Harry said. "And I'm still exhausted. I'll see you later, Ginny."

With a carefully constructed mask, Harry walked to his dorm room and sat on his bed. The other beds were empty and the sun shone through the windows. Harry pulled the thick red curtains around his bed and cast the appropriate silencing and privacy charms.

His eyes were shut even before his head hit the pillow.

 

 


	7. Potions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron comes around.

**And I never wanted anything from you**  
**Except everything you had and what was left after that too**

**...**

**"Dog Days are Over"**

**by Florence and the Machine**

* * *

 

"Welcome back," Tom smirked as Harry bit back a groan.

"Where are we? Is this a dream?" Harry asked, taking in the surroundings of his dreamscape with a groan. "It's dangerous if I don't get enough sleep..."

Tom hummed but altogether seemed unconcerned as he stalked forward, dark eyes gleaming. "We're in your mind, Harry," he purred, " _Our_ mind."

Harry shivered as if a ghost had just walked through him. Tom noticed and his eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Does it bother you, Harry? To have me so close to you?" Tom's warm breath blew over Harry's ear. "That I am a part of you? Even though _you_ were the one who accepted, even _invited_ me inside?"

"Didn't give me much of a choice," Harry muttered quickly, avoiding his gaze.

Tom suddenly had his chin in an ironclad grip between two fingers, forcing Harry's emerald eyes to stare up at him in surprise. "And yet I sense no regret." Harry blushed indignantly, trying to wrench his head away. He snarled, but Tom held fast. "It is of no matter, boy hero. Even though you had fallen asleep reading, _I_ was paying rapt attention up until the moment your head hit the paper. It seems what we need to do is brew a variation of the Rudimentary Potion."

"Rudimentary Potion?"

Tom nodded, shifting from World Dominator to Professor Riddle in a matter of seconds.

"It requires a few ingredients which may violate the terms of our agreement..."

Harry stumbled back. Wait, Tom actually meant to honor their agreement? He really wouldn't steal another's mind, body, or soul to regain his own body?

"Therefore-" Tom continued, "-we will continue to research the rest of the Potion's Section until such a time when it becomes necessary to experiment."

"Oh..." Harry said, wondering what experimenting would entail. "But how will we be able to test it? You don't exactly have a common condition."

"We'll use the Room of Requirement," Tom decided, pacing up and down. "I don't know how we're going to test it yet...perhaps a small bunny..."

Harry looked away with disgust.

"Better bunny than human," Tom sighed dramatically, "seeing as you won't give in?"

Harry locked him with a hard stare. "No."

"So you see, I have no choice," Tom smirked. "And yet I find myself tempted..."

Harry blinked in surprise. Did Tom really mean that or was he...? Wait, was that a hint of tease in that voice? Harry looked up and was immediately captivated by the lust simmering in those dark depths. Yes, Tom was only teasing about killing a person. But damn! Tom was terrifying when he teased. Harry found himself backing up until his back hit a wall.

"Tempted?" Harry managed to tease back, trying to cover up his more primal instincts to run and maybe shut his mouth before he died.

"Oh yes," Tom purred, advancing on him nice and slow. Taking his time to really observe his prey. Harry's legs were quaking, but in lust or fear, or perhaps a mixture of both, Tom didn't rightly know. All he cared about were those tempting pink lips and that tantalizing column of unblemished neck. Without really thinking, Tom lunged. Blood spilled over his tongue at the same moment Harry cried out in pain. Oh, he loved that sound. Not because his boy was suffering, but because he was loving every moment of whatever Tom was willing to give him.

...

"Tom! Ah! Ah! Tom! St-stop it!" Harry yowled, trying to pry the Dark Lord off of his body. "You're-Ah!-Hurting me!"

This made the Dark Lord pause as he considered the panting adolescent beneath him. Harry was flushed, emerald eyes glossed over in ecstasy, but his hand had flown up to the slightly bleeding wound on his neck and he seemed to wince as he made contact with it. Tom simply smirked. He felt slightly guilty, perhaps, but was too absolutely smug to care. Harry was _his_. And now, everyone would know.

"Tom, why are you looking at me like that?" Harry asked warily, knowing a pleased Tom was never a good sign. "Hey, what are you-"

Harry stopped midsentence as Tom rolled his hips into Harry's, making the younger man shudder. Harry mewled, digging his nails into Tom's back. "Have you ever had sex before?"

Harry's blush told him all he needed to know. "I didn't have much time," Harry said after a moment's pause, wanting a chance to defend himself, "to have relationships with a psychopathic-Ah!- maniac bastard-Ah!- trying to kill me! _Tom!_ " Harry whined. He couldn't take it anymore. The pressure on his cock. The wild look in Tom's eyes. The way he couldn't help the way the magic pulled on him, wanting him and Tom to be together. To be connected. He found his pants to be suddenly altogether too tight. Just a breath. A feather light touch and Harry wouldn't be able to hold back.

Tom grazed his nails over the top of Harry's trousers, right over top his throbbing arousal and Harry came. He came with a roar, hands balled into fists at his sides, screaming Tom's name as the Slytherin just chuckled and pressed a light kiss to his scar, sending tingles throughout his body.

And then someone was hitting him with a pillow.

"WAKE UP HARRY! YOU'RE GOING TO BE LATE!" Harry's eyes flung open as he nearly fell out of bed, a panicked Ron tossing Harry his clothes.

"Wha-?"

"WE'RE GOING TO BE LATE TO POTIONS!" Ron screamed. "Imagine losing 200 points in one morning!"

Harry climbed out of bed, eyes widening in surprise as he felt the tell-tale stickiness of the night before. He groaned inwardly, sending a silent _scourgify_ at his bedsheets and pants. He was grateful that Ron was too busy panicking to pick up the scent of Harry's sex.

 _So it happens in real life too, huh?_ Harry asked, slipping on his robes.

 _Of course,_ Tom smirked, emanating an entirely too satisfied aura.

When Harry had just finished adjusting his tie, he and Ron fairly flew from the empty common room to the dungeons. It struck Harry just then as strange that Ron had forgiven him so quickly for the night before. But he wasn't complaining. Goodness knew he could use fewer enemies.

"Late! Twenty points from Gryffindor!" Snape snapped as the two boys clambered into the room a second too late.

Ron grinned at the boy panting beside him, happy that it hadn't been 200 as he had feared.

"-Each." Snape finished with a vindictive grin. The Slytherins snickered none too subtly into their sleeves, Pansy outright cackling, as Ron's grin slid off his face like honey. "Now that Gryffindor's golden boy has seen fit to grace us with his presence this morning we can turn our attention to today's potion which is worth 30% of your classwork grade. You would have had 45 minutes to complete this task, except now you have only 40 because _some_ people think themselves above such rules as being on time." Snape's glittering black eyes fell to Harry's, then flickered slightly off center, before returning to scrutinizing the rest of the room. With a sharp flick of his wand, instructions appeared on the board and everyone rushed to the storage cabinets to begin.

 _He really hates you,_ Tom mused as Harry silently fumed.

 _Yeah, no shit. It's because I look like my father,_ Harry found himself explaining. He had complained to Riddle's diary in the past, but this was really the first time Tom had witnessed Snape in action- well, apart from when they were in the headmaster's office. It seemed that since 16-year-old Tom Riddle never met Severus Snape, his horcrux hadn't either.

 _You will still have to be wary,_ Tom told him. _He's much shrewder than the headmaster. No wonder my future self took him for a spy._

Harry began to chop up the ginger root- taking care to make some purposely larger than others to convince the school of his ineptitude- as Ron and Hermione sidled up beside him.

The two were silent at first as they organized their ingredients on the table. Hermione was the first to speak.

"Harry," Hermione began in a kindly voice, "we're sorry about jumping to conclusions yesterday. We were just...so excited to hang out with you again. We overreacted, sorry."

"Yeah mate," Ron added, "My sister talked to us about it during breakfast and I reckon I wasn't that fair with you. I mean, you saved my sister! You're a good friend, Harry, and I don't believe you would have forgotten about us on purpose."

"And really, Harry, research is quite tiring. I have fallen asleep once or twice in the library."

"Trust Hermione, right mate?" Ron grinned happily, fistful of crushed daisy hovering over the simmering cauldron...

 _Harry-_ Tom whispered warningly a second too late.

BOOM!

Harry didn't have any time to react. But Tom did. Thrusting himself forward in Harry's consciousness, he threw up a pulsing blue shield charm around the cauldron. Harry vaguely registered that he would have only shielded his friends, while inevitably missing others, while Tom was the one who had the sense to stop the liquid itself from scalding people's faces off.

 _You're welcome,_ Tom smirked as he receding back into Harry's mind.

"POTTER!"


	8. Detention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are physical manifestations to their bond. Tom is smug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all of the kudos and comments. You guys are wonderful!

**Blackberries**   
**Big as the ball of my thumb, and dumb as eyes**   
**Ebon in the hedges, fat**   
**With blue-red juices. These they squander on my fingers.**   
**I had not asked for such a blood sisterhood; they must love me.**   
**They accommodate themselves to my milkbottle, flattening their sides.**

**...**

**"Blackberrying"**

**by Sylvia Path**

* * *

(A/N: Snape's POV of last chapter and then the continuation)

Snape had his onyx black eyes trained on Dumbledore's golden boy from the moment he stepped into class precisely one second late. He had noticed the boy hadn't shown up for breakfast like the rest of his Gryffindor posse, which was why Snape was only slightly surprised to see that the Weasley boy had taken it upon himself to fetch him.

Potter looked different somehow. He was flushed from running, that was true, but there was also something else...As he continued his observations, he became faintly aware of a darkness surrounding the boy. Usually it was concentrated in his scar, but today it seemed to be everywhere on him, clinging to his shoulders, floating by his face, caressing eerily enough the full length of his slim body. Snape shuddered as he was suddenly reminded of the way Voldemort walked inside a similar cloud of dark magic, using it as an extension of himself when he commanded his Death Eaters, the threat of being strangled to death by the shadow all too clear. But Potter most certainly was not a Dark Lord. So what had changed? Why did he feel so different? Potter was still cutting his root as abysmally as ever, but Snape noticed a look of concentration on his face, almost as if the boy were concentrating on messing up the root! But this was also ludicrous. The boy was an utter failure at Potions just like his blasted father. Nothing like Lily at all.

Snape's frown increased as the know-it-all and the blood traitor began to spew apologies, loudly enough so that the whole room could hear of their falling out. This really piqued Snape's interest. From what he could gather, it seemed that the Potter brat had failed to show up at a meeting with his friends because he had fallen asleep in the library. Snape's eyes narrowed dangerously. Potter had never been known to read, but then, perhaps something had changed after all.

He was still staring at the messy black mop of Potter's head, lost in thought, when that Weasley boy opened his fist over the boiling cauldron. Wait, daisy! Snape threw himself to the ground, wand out to cast a shield charm, when a powerful blue light lit up the room. When the expectant cries of burning students didn't come, Snape poked out his head from underneath his desk to witness Potter staring down at his wand in shock, and everyone else in various degrees of crouches, staring at the boy wonder as well.

"POTTER!"

.oOo.

"One hundred points from Gryffindor!" Snape sneered, bearing down on the helpless Gryffindors. The fact that no one had gotten hurt was irrelevant. Potter and Weasley could have severely injured someone. Hell, they could have blinded someone! All because of their stupid conversation. Stupid Potter, just like his father.

 _Way to go,_ Tom mumbled softly in Harry's ear.

Harry watched as his most hated Potions Professor steeled his face and stalked towards their table, black robes flying behind him like bat wings. Harry could practically hear Hermione trembling beside him.

"Did you not wait until the potion turned a clearly indicated light moss-green color before adding the finely-or in your case- crudely crushed daisy petals? Or did you toss them in there while the fire was still raging like the imbecile you are?"

"Pr-" Hermione protested.

"Silence, Miss Granger! Or that will be another fifty pints for your insolence!" Hermione clamped her mouth shut, eyes watering indignantly. Snape had no doubt that if she could, she would have turned him to stone on the spot. "Because of your carelessness, Mr. Weasley, and your inability to follow directions, Mr. Potter, you have both risked the safety of the entire class. You will be serving detention tonight with Mr. Filch, Mr. Weasley, and a detention tonight with me, Mr. Potter. Seven pm sharp, and I mean sharp! Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, professor," both boys mumbled dejectedly.

Snape turned to stalk away, but just before doing so, he caught Harry's blazing emerald eyes and his own black ones communicated briefly their astonishment and their confusion. Where had that blue shield come from?...And what was that mark on Potter's neck?

.oOo.

Harry knocked softly on the door before him, acutely aware that Tom was watching and more likely scrutinizing everything through Harry's eyes.

"You may enter," Snape called, voice low and dangerous. Allowing himself a sigh, Harry opened the door.

Snape stood in the middle of the room, glowering down at him with as much venom as he could possibly put behind his eyes. The door clicked locked behind him. Harry tried not to look too ill at ease. Severus, being a Slytherin after all and therefore just like Tom, would snuff out his nervousness right away and twist it around to his advantage.

"Tell me, Potter," Snape began, dark eyes glittering in the sparse light. "How did you get that most peculiar mark on your neck?"

Harry froze. Mark? Neck?  Harry had been expecting many things, all of which having to do with menial and tedious tasks...This was certainly not on that list.

 _Don't answer right away. Find out what he knows,_ Tom said, own eyes narrowing as he took in the batlike form of Severus Snape.

"I-I don't know what you mean," Harry replied with a thick stutter. But all his acting skills could do nothing to contain the faint blush creeping up on his cheeks. He knew exactly where that mark had come from, and he'd be damned if he told Snape so.

 _Did you know this would happen?_ Harry screamed.

 _We'll have to take precautions next time,_ Tom replied evasively, just a tad too pleased with his handiwork to clear him of suspicion. Harry inwardly groaned. Damn, so Tom had known...

Snape was still studying him, face drawn, eyes flickering from his head to his toes.

"I think you do," Snape leered. "Even you, Potter, with your abnormally incompetent brain capabilities can understand what I am asking. But I realize the task might be difficult for you, so I will ask one more time: How did you get that mark?"

Snape didn't know for sure that the change in Potter was linked to that new mark on his neck, but Potter's deepening blush all but confirmed it. There was no talk of Harry Potter being in a relationship with anyone, so there must have been a reason for the secrecy. Snape knew all too well the dangers of being infatuated with the wrong crowd. An image of Lucius Malfoy came unbidden to his mind.

"I didn't know you were so interested in my love life, Professor," Harry stated boldly, head cocked to the side. Snape simply scowled.

"Have you been keeping up with your Occlumency, Mr. Potter?" Severus asked silkily, the threat contained not at all hidden. His eyes had adapted a mad glint and Harry wanted nothing more than to curse him.

_Do not worry, Harry. He won't know of what transpired last night. I'll make sure of it._

But Harry was beginning to doubt just how much Tom could do for him. Something in Snape's face told him that he better be prepared for his mind to be thoroughly and utterly fucked.

 _"Legilimens!"_ Snape whispered.


	9. Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voyeurism. If you can find it.

 

 _if each day a flower_  
 _climbs up to your lips to seek me,_  
 _ah my love, ah my own,_  
 _in me all that fire is repeated,_  
 _in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,_  
 _my love feeds on your love, beloved,_  
 _and as long as you live it will be in your arms_  
 _without leaving **mine**._  
...  
“If You Forget Me” by Pablo Neruda

* * *

 _"Legilimens!"_ Snape whispered.

Nothing could have prepared Harry for the agonizing pain that came from Snape tearing through his mind. Memories swam past them- mostly useless ones which Tom had laid strategically at the surface- but then Snape delved deeper. He knew this trick. He was the King of Occlumency!

True to his word, Tom was able to shield the memories involving him and Harry together in Harry's mindscape, which was good, since Snape seemed to be grasping for those first. But as Harry began to slip under Snape's advances, Tom was forced to recede. He couldn't let Snape feel his presence, no matter what. And then, before anyone could do anything, the image of _Rebirth: The Guide to Resurrection_ came unbidden to the forefront, floating oh so enticingly before the Potions Master. _No! No! He can't see that!_ But as luck would have it, Snape seemed especially intent on following that particular memory.

The Potions Master seemed to light up in delight, just like a Christmas tree, and he grasped the memory for all it was worth. The Restricted Section of the library came into view with several ancient tomes stacked upon the desk. Was this before or after Harry had fallen asleep? When did Tom take over? Harry could hear Snape's thoughts brimming to the surface. _What is he doing with that? The brat can't even brew a first year potion! Why resurrection? That Dark Lord..._ With a strangled cry, Harry and Tom launched the attacker from their joint mind. It was mainly on Tom's power, but Harry had to be present to shield his presence.

Harry blinked a few times before registering what was wrong. He was on the ground of the cold dungeon, kneecaps scrapped and sore. Snape had not fared much better and the look of utter shock and—was that fear?—almost made the experience worth it. Harry relished in Snape's confusion, but Tom was coiling up. If Snape was afraid, he must have found something to be afraid of. They couldn't afford to give him any more information.

Harry winced as he felt the lacerations through his memories. It had never been quite so painful last year, but then again, he hadn't had anything he wanted to hide quite so much. Snape seemed to realize this too, for he turned to him, hate blazing in his eyes.

 _Harry, get out of there,_ Tom ordered.

That was all the persuasion it took for Harry to go tearing down the corridors. Locked door be damned. It flew open upon contact.

.oOo.

Harry's head hit the pillow, hard. His heart was hammering in his chest as his lithe body slid beneath the covers. Snape got his blood boiling, the greasy bastard. How dare he interrogate Harry when he had done nothing (technically) wrong? How dare he go tearing through his mind, probably making it more painful than necessary just to see James' son suffer?

His hands began stroking down his sides, toned from quidditch practice, down his lean stomach, and over his flat abdomen.  _Need you_ , he whined, _Tom, please!_

His breath hitched as one hand came up to tweak his nipples, sending electricity up his spine. He didn't care that it was just past curfew and that all his dorm mates were in the same room, just arm lengths from him. He had set up all the necessary privacy and silencing charms and now he just needed to forget about the day.

 _My, my, what a naughty boy you are Harry..._ That was Tom and he was watching his boy's antics hungrily, white teeth gleaming neatly in rows. He watched Harry's attempts to pleasure himself with fervor, nearly groaning at his desperation.

_Shut up, Tom! Just help me!_

_It seems like you're doing a perfectly good job of it by yourself_ , Tom chuckled. _But since you ask so sweetly..._

Harry felt Tom push himself to the front of his conscience causing Harry to fall back in his own mind, a mere spectator to a grand new show. His hands, once his own, no longer obeyed him- not like he wanted them to do anything else- as they crawled over his skin.

 _Tom!_ Harry mewled as Tom flicked his left nipple with a look of concentration on his face. _Stop teasing me!_

But it seemed like Tom wanted to take it slow today, for it was ages before Harry felt the other’s fingers ghost over his straining erection.

 _How much do you want it?_ Tom smirked, running Harry's thin fingers up the underside of his cock. _Should I milk your release nice and slow? Or perhaps we should get it over with quickly? Rub you raw until it hurts?_

Harry bucked his hips as Tom closed his hands over his full length. _Tom!_ Harry squirmed.

 _Fine, fine..._ Tom smirked, giving in without much reluctance. Taking Harry's engorged cock in hand, he proceeded to palm him, rubbing up and down, causing Harry to shudder and squirm away from the harsh friction. Harry could feel the pressure building, he was going to come, dear Merlin, had he cast silencing charms?

 _Stop thinking so much,_ Tom commanded, fondling Harry's balls with expert, light fingers. _You need to relax..._ Harry couldn't look away as Tom slid a finger into the head of his erection and smeared the droplet of precum that had formed there. He rubbed his, or rather, _Harry's_ thumb in firm circles, sending Harry spiraling in a dark haze of ecstasy.

 _Tom! I-I'm going to c-come!_ Harry warned, breathing hard now. He flung his head back, eyes fluttering shut as pleasure took him for her hostage.

_That's right, Harry. Come for me. Come now!_

With a shudder, Harry felt his magic give way as he released, spurting his cum beneath the covers. "TOM!" he had shouted, just as an equally lust ridden voice echoed _Harry_. But it was not Tom's voice. And it certainly wasn't Harry's.

Harry's thoughts were in a jumbled mess of the halo of the afterglow and he couldn't bring himself to string together a coherent thought even if he had wanted to. Still, he felt as if something had gone horribly wrong.

Somewhere between the time of his begging and his release. There had been another, watching, moaning...

 _You're mine,_ Tom whispered, receding back into Harry's mind. Harry dropped into his body, too tired to do anything but lay staring up at the ceiling, chest rising and falling in a slow deep rhythm.

_You're mine..._


	10. Invitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gets mail. Ron comes around.

**_From the lightning in the sky_ **

**_As it passed me flying by,_ **

**_From the thunder and the storm,_ **

**_And the cloud that took the form_ **

**_(When the rest of Heaven was blue)_ **

**_Of a demon in my view._ **

**...**

**“Alone” by Edgar Allan Poe**

* * *

 

Harry was safely ensconced at the Gryffindor table by Hermione, who was busy knitting a hat for the houselves, and Ron, who was busy giving a play by play of what Slytherin drama he happened to walk upon last night- absolutely not on his way to or from the Head Girl's private rooms.

"It was dark, you know, so I couldn't be sure who exactly was out, but it was pretty hard to mistake their voices. I hid behind the suit of armor and cast a tiny notice-me-not charm. Well, you know, I have to learn a few basic spells to um, venture to the loo," Ron blushed, as if everyone didn't know what he got up to at night. "Anyway," Ron continued, "it seemed like old Snape wanted to take the conversation to somewhere private, but Malfoy wouldn't have it."

"Why didn't Professor Snape cast a silencing charm?" Hermione wondered idly.

"Oh, he did," Ron smirked, "but not before I heard what Malfoy was bursting to say. Apparently Malfoy's dad wants him to take the Dark Mark, but Malfoy isn't ready to live up to his father's legacy. Can you believe that?"

"And what did Snape say?" Ginny asked curiously.

"That the Dark Lord didn’t take No as an answer."

Harry stared down at his sad looking waffle and worried his bottom lip between his teeth. Voldemort had regained his body sometime last year; the method of course was unknown, though Pettigrew and Bellatrix were supposedly heavily involved. By the time the Wizarding World had finally caught on, he had already reestablished his place as the Dark Lord of the century, launching several attacks on the families of Order Members. Not that they were known as such, but Harry knew enough about who was loyal to Dumbledore to figure out something more systematic than a Death Eater Killing Spree was at play. Dumbledore not even confiding in Harry that there was such a thing as the Order of the Phoenix was another reason why Harry didn't fully trust the man.

_I certainly don't take No as an answer_ , Tom smirked.

_Don't I know it_...

"So what? Snape's just going to let Malfoy take the Dark Mark even though he's in the Ord-" Ginny blushed profusely as Hermione and Ron shot her warning glares at her slip up. Right, Harry wasn't supposed to know about the Order. "I just meant," she tried to backtrack.

"I think I understand what you're saying," Hermione stepped in smoothly, "Snape's really on the Light side, but you know he can't tell Malfoy that."

She chanced a concerned glance at Harry to see if he bought it, just as the owls began to swoop in to deliver the morning's mail.

"Oi, mail!" Ron exclaimed happily, trying to distract him.

_Idiots, the lot of them._ Tom sneered, _These are the children Dumbledore sends to guard his precious weapon?_

_Tom-!_ Harry was about to retort when an ordinary barn owl landed in front of him. What? He could feel Tom's cogs whirring in his mind.

_You're being watched._

_Who?_ Harry asked, untying the letter and slipping it into his robe's pocket. He could feel the weight of the expensive paper...and the dark power pulsating from where he had made contact rising to caress his hand. It disappeared in an instant and though he was sure no one else had felt it, he could feel himself shaking inside.

_Dumbledore, Snape, Malfoy..._

_They know who it's from,_ Harry concluded.

_If Dumbledore doesn't know for certain right now, he'll know as soon as Snape leans over and whispers it to him._

_What should I do?_

_Take someone with you. Go to the loo. Open it then burn it._

"H-harry?" Hermione asked worriedly, eyebrows drawn in genuine concern.

"I, don't feel so great. Um, R-ron? Can you come with me to the loo?" he whispered very softly, cheeks suffused in embarrassment.

Ron puffed up with pride and protectiveness. "Yeah, sure mate. That waffle not doing it for you?" he joked, hopping up and walking with Harry out of the Great Hall. Out of _their_ watchful eyes.

"Sorry about this," Harry whispered, "I guess I'm just nervous about Snape and Malfoy, you know?"

"I don't blame you, mate!" Ron said truthfully. "You-Know-Who sure knows how to pick them, doesn't he?"

Harry smiled a little at that, face still pale though. As they reached the loo, Harry told Ron to wait outside for him, explaining the feeling would pass if given a second or two alone. Ron didn't mind having to escort his friend to the loo, in fact, he was pleased that Harry had asked him. With a quick thanks, Harry made his way into one of the back stalls and took out the letter.

 It was indeed very expensive paper. He almost didn't want to tear it open, but he did. Inside, written in beautiful sloping cursive, was the most elegant preemptory summons by a homicidal bastard Harry had ever received. Tom read eagerly along with him.

**Mr. H. Potter,**

**You are cordially invited to Malfoy Manor to celebrate this year's Induction ceremony this Saturday at 6 in the evening.  We would be most pleased if you could attend.**

**Yours Truly,**

**You-Know-Who**

You-Know-Who indeed. He was so fucked.

 


	11. The Meeting Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry trusts Tom. But should he?

 

**_Things cannot be reversed_ **   
**_We learn from the times that we are cursed_ **   
**_Things cannot be reversed_ **   
**_Learn from the ones we fear the worst_ **

**_..._ **

**_"Candles" by Daughter_ **

* * *

 

Malfoy Manor brimmed with life as society’s elite danced and networked in the grand ballroom. Harry wasn’t sure what he had expected as the house elf let him inside, just that this wasn’t it. Tom was very much alert in his mind, taking in the exits and entrances with a surveying glance.

 _They can’t all be Death Eaters_ , Harry whispered as he tried to blend into the wall.

Tom snorted at him. _Why ever not? Although I would assume the real ceremony will occur later, perhaps in a more private space._

Harry was dressed in dark green dress robes, hair combed back, with a temporary spell to fix his eyesight. Without his glasses, people who saw him wouldn’t immediately be reminded of Harry Potter, especially since he was dressed in nice clothes for once. However, without his glasses, he struck a more striking figure. His face had angled out some as he matured, giving him a more calculating look. Stripped of his connection to James Potter, he was sure Dumbledore would scrutinize his actions just a little bit more. It was common knowledge that James was a favorite of Dumbledore’s and that by their relation, Harry was given more leeway. Case in point, Tom has suggested the temporary fix.

Harry scanned the room, looking at the faces instead of the rich clothes which blended together. He spotted the Malfoys with their white-blond hair first. Draco stood close to his mother, dressed in ice-blue dress robes which matched his mother’s dress. Lucius stood apart from them, talking with a few others. Pansy Parkinson was nearby, dressed in a meadow green dress, and at her side was Daphne Greengrass in violet.

There were sure to be more children if he just looked hard enough, but his time to look was cut short by Tom’s insistent nudging.

 _They’re moving,_ he hissed. _The meeting is beginning!_

Cautiously, Harry followed after the Malfoys who were headed towards a small inconspicuous door off to the side, still trimmed in gold though. Only about twenty people in the room were on the move with the others none the wiser.

 _It’s the perfect plan. To hold a meeting in plain sight,_ Harry remarked as he fell in line behind everyone, keeping his face down and hidden from view.

.oOo.

The Death Eaters and soon-to-be Death Eaters spilled into the barely lit meeting room. They circled around a platform in the middle of the room made of marble, where on a golden throne their lord sat, stroking a large snake.

Harry shuffled into the fold, not wanting to catch the wrong sort of attention too soon into the night.

 _Are you sure this was a good idea?_ Harry asked Tom worriedly. There were no other exits except for the passageway they had just left as far as Harry could see. If something should happen... _Are you sure you have everything under control?_

 _Positive. No one has even spared us a glance thanks to me_.

Tom simply reeked with confidence. Unbeknownst to Harry, Tom actually had a purpose coming here tonight and it certainly wasn’t to comply with the Dark Lord. But seeing as Harry was his only mode of transportation, there was no way in Hell he was going to confess to his host that the plan was to completely take over his body.

 _You’re not scared, are you, boy hero?_ Tom teased.

 _Shut up, Tom_. Harry retorted before turning his attention back to the ceremony before them.

Voldemort stood up as the scuffle of feet subsided. His great ugly head, a white mass of skin stretched taut over his skull, was illuminated against the deepest black of robes he wore.

“My loyal followerssss.” Voldemort smiled at them maniacally, causing some of the younger followers to shudder involuntarily. “Tonight, we welcome the new generation of Death Eaters to join our worthy causssse.”

The inductees were lined up in front of the throne, Draco first, then Pansy, Crabbe, Goyle, and some others that Harry just couldn’t deign to notice.

Voldemort’s ruby eyes swept over the crowd, dressed in their very finest. He didn’t mind that no one was in their Death Eater uniform. It was a celebration, not a battle meeting; however, it did make an odd picture for outsiders like Harry.

“Draco Malfoy,” Voldemort hissed, even as his eyes strayed to land on Harry. “Come to your Lord.”

Shakily, the boy approached the pale monster, face as blank as slate.

“My Lord,” Draco said as he held out his left arm.

 _Look to your left,_ Tom said, tearing Harry away from the show. Harry did as bid, stifling a gasp as he recognized Severus Snape had joined the throng besides Lucius Malfoy, both men watching Draco’s initiation with a look akin to terrified pride.

 _He hasn’t noticed me yet, has he?_ Harry asked Tom.

 _Not yet,_ Tom said, referring to Snape. _But then again, I am masking your signature aura. When I let it fall, everyone will know you are here._

One by one, Harry’s peers walked up to the platform, offering their arms. No one screamed, but only because the Dark Lord had erected a silencing charm around the child in question.

 _And besides, it only hurts for a second,_ Tom scoffed as Harry’s concern was nauseating him.

 _Tom, I don’t feel so good,_ Harry said uneasily. He knew it was as good as shooting himself in the foot by admitting weakness to Tom, but he would rather have Tom know now than Lord Voldemort later.

 _Then go to sleep,_ Tom said gently, easing Harry to the back of the Mindscape as he came forward. _Let me take over for now..._

_Alright..._

 


	12. A Deal is Struck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom makes a deal. But with whom?

**It's taking me sideways and upside down**  
**This toxin in my body**

 **As it consumes what's left of me**  
**Your face**  
**It's written on the page**  
**And filled with empty space**  
**All night**  
**Take me back where I belong**  
**I'm so over due**  
**Take me where I can feel alive**  
**And just enjoy the view**

**...**

**"The View" by April Nhem**

* * *

_Alright..._

Tom smiled as he regained control of Harry’s body. (And what a lovely body it was too.) He shook his arms slightly at his sides just to make sure everything was in order. Good. As the last student walked forward to take the mark, Tom focussed on restraining his aura. He wouldn’t be revealed until he wanted it. Dramatic entrances and all that—he _was_ the Dark Lord after all.

“Risssse, my followersss. Welcome to my humble circle...” Voldemort offered them a ghastly smile as he scrutinized all those gathered. His gaze rested lightly on Harry for a fleeting second, but that was all. Just as the Dark Lord was about to scare the shit out of Pansy Parkinson by turning his scarlet gaze to her, Tom released a small taste of his aura with a smirk.

In an instant, the Dark Lord had snapped his gaze to Harry Potter, sensing a difference in the air, but unable to completely identify the cause of it. His followers, not privy to his thoughts, shifted uneasily at the sudden move.

“I had not wanted to _detract_ from our very important initiation,” Voldemort began loudly, “However, I find the time appropriate to welcome our guest of honor.”

Severus stiffened imperceptibly, self-conscious that even the slight tensing of his muscles could warrant bringing his loyalties under question. He needn’t have worried though, since everyone was too wrapped up in their own thoughts. Severus had seen Potter receive the letter for tonight. Dumbledore had even ordered him to keep his eyes open for the brat (as if Severus could possibly forget), but so far he hadn’t sensed Harry’s presence at all. If a presence could be sensed, of course. Now, Snape searched around the circle, trying not to seem too interested, but was unable to spot Harry due to the strong suggestion spell Tom had placed over them.

“Harry Potter,” Voldemort announced softly, caressing his name as if in velvet. Tom knew this would have made Harry sway on his feet, but it was decidedly disturbing for Tom to hear his other self try to _woo_ him to the dark. “You may reveal yourself, my dear Harry. You were invited, after all.”

Cue given, Tom dropped all hold over his aura, letting it ripple out in strong, seductive waves. It wasn’t as dark as Voldemort’s, but it was certainly as deep as it came from the same place.

Severus shuddered, unable to help himself. He wasn’t the only one. Draco’s jaw had hit the floor, as had Pansy’s, Theodore’s, and Daphne’s. _That can’t be Potter!_ Draco thought in shock. _Potter’s weak! This is…this is…_ Draco’s legs turned to jelly as the aura flowed through him. This beautiful, dark, alluring aura simply could not belong to the cowardly little Boy-Who-Lived. It just couldn’t be true.

“Voldemort,” Tom returned, voice dark and smooth as glass. He stepped forward so the light shown on his handsome face, now frosted off with polished confidence. The resemblance to the Tom Riddle of old was not lost on many. It was in the way the boy carried himself, shoulders back and chin tilted up (not jutted out like some Gryffindor idiot).

Only Bellatrix, lost to her insanity, whipped out her wand and shrieked, “You dare to speak his name! _Cru-!”_

Tom stunned her with a lazy flick of his wand.

“My, my, Harry, I thought that old fool would have taught you some manners. I prefer to be called the Dark Lord,” Voldemort smiled viciously. “But for you, Harry, I might need to make an exception.”

“I’m flattered,” Tom drawled with an equally as ferocious smile. “But I confess I am unsure why you would want me here. Care to enlighten one so bold, Voldemort?”

Tom quirked an eyebrow in challenge.

Meanwhile, Severus was concentrating on not blinking lest he miss something. He had to make sure he had a near perfect pensive memory for the headmaster to view since he was sure an oral account would not suffice to communicate the absurdity of the moment. That, and he was sure even his talented tongue was not up to the task of describing the powerful waves washing over him! Banish the thought that Snape ever entertained the boy was, in his own way, _intoxicating_.

“I will gladly enlighten you,” Voldemort drawled, walking forward to stand before the boy. The Death Eaters backed up to make way for their lord, without making it seem like they were cowards running for the hills. “I have been informed that the Chamber of Secrets was recently reopened and that a Basilisk was slaughtered, emitting a, shall we say, _dark magical pulse_ , throughout the building.”

He was standing directly in from of Tom now, looming over him, but Tom was not to be intimidated, and certainly not by an ugly reptilian-faced psycho.

“You find this account lacking?” Tom returned lightly, eyes flicking to Snape who was still trying not to blink.

“Yes, you see, I know a thing or two about a certain diary that was destroyed in this heroic battle and I would like to know more.”

Tom crossed his arms and smirked broadly. Draco sucked in a gasp. He didn’t just do that to the Dark Lord, did he?

“Oh, I do believe I know a thing or two more about the diary than you do,” Tom returned smoothly.

Red eyes met emerald head on. If Voldemort thought the boy’s mind would be easy to rip into, he had another thing coming, because just for a second, Tom’s eyes flickered red too. All thought of legilimency vanished as understanding settled in Voldemort’s mind. This was the seventh piece…

{You’re not Harry, are you, my Horcrux?} Voldemort hissed, eyes gleaming.

{I am no longer your Horcrux, Voldemort,} Tom told him, {I am only an impression in Harry’s mind. I am no longer chained to the diary, nor am I chained to you. Given the right potion, I can live an independent life apart from you, aging as you would have from sixteen.}

But talk of independence and the implied message that Tom could make better decisions—that he had made _wrong_ decisions, was enough to tip the mad wizard over the edge.

{But you are MINE!} Voldemort growled, lunging for Tom’s neck and pinning him to the wall. {I can feel my soul calling out for me from this very body. I can touch it— _NO!_ }

Tom’s eyes gleamed scarlet. {Yessss...You see, Voldemort, Harry fully enveloped your soul shard just the other day. But he isn’t truly yours. _I_ still control him,} Tom partially lied. He could feel the growing anger in the Dark Lord, the dark aura bubbling to the surface, ready to drag him under.

“HARRY POTTER IS MINE!” Voldemort screamed in Tom’s face, startling everyone in the room, not just because he had suddenly switched from snake speech to human screaming but also because he was talking to Harry and referring to him in the third person.

Snape’s onyx eyes narrowed. The boy certainly looked like Potter, but the aura had something else mixed into it and the boy was not acting like the usual fool he was. Did this have something to do with the blue shield from the other day? Or the mark on his neck? Or the diary from the Chamber? Something was up and obviously Voldemort knew it.

“I am willing to give him up, fully to you, with a promise to never interfere with him ever again, if,” Tom stopped and continued in parseltongue, {you give me the Absquecorpus potion, I will gladly withdraw all influence from the boy. It will be like he was never… _touched_. A virgin in full bloom one could say,} thought Tom knew Harry was far from it, thanks to him.

Tom smiled charmingly up at Voldemort who still had him pinned against the wall. Tom was a possessive bastard, which meant that Voldemort was also a possessive bastard, and who better to negotiate with Voldemort than his former self? Having Tom stuck in Harry’s mindscape wouldn’t affect anything, not really, but he knew that Voldemort wouldn’t be able to stand _sharing_ his horcrux with anyone, even with himself. So why not use that to his advantage and get a fully corporeal, independent form wrapped into the deal?

{I know you want him, Voldemort,} Tom purred lowly, placing his hands on Voldemort’s chest. {He’s rather hard to part with, I admit. And we do have _such fun_ together.} And then to close the deal, Tom’s lips brushed the almost nonexistent ones of the man before him. Kissing himself be damned. Voldemort couldn’t help the lust that rose within him as Harry began stirring and reawakening sensations he had long ago put to sleep. That mouth moved against his, soft and moist and pliant. To have something that pure and lovely again. To possess the unattainable, the Boy-Who-Lived…Voldemort pulled back with one last snake-like lick to Harry’s mouth.

{I accept.}

 


	13. Captured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have you read The Silver Chair? Or the many shades of Severus Snape.

 

> _"The Knight was seated in a curious silver chair, to which he was bound by his ankles, his knees, his elbows, his wrists, and his waist. There was sweat on his forehead and his face was filled with anguish._
> 
> _"Come in, friends," he said, glancing quickly up. "The fit is not yet upon me. Make no noise, for I told that prying chamberlain that you were in bed. Now . . . I can feel it coming. Quick! Listen while I am master of myself. When the fit is upon me, it well may be that I shall beg and implore you, with entreaties and threatenings, to loosen my bonds. They say I do. I shall call upon you by all that is most dear and most dreadful. But do not listen to me. Harden your hearts and stop your ears. For while I am bound you are safe. But if once I were up and out of this chair, then first would come my fury, and after that" - he shuddered - "the change into a loathsome serpent."_  
>  _He had been speaking in a low voice; now he looked up, fixed his eyes upon them, and said loud and clear:_  
>  _"Quick! I am sane now. Every night I am sane. If only I could get out of this enchanted chair, it would last. I should be a man again. But every night they bind me, and so every night my chance is gone. But you are not enemies. I am not your prisoner. Quick! Cut these cords. Have they told you that if I am released from this chair I shall kill you and become a serpent? I see by your faces that they have. It is a lie. It is at this hour that I am in my right mind: it is all the rest of the day that I am enchanted. You are not Earthmen nor witches. Why should you be on their side? Of your courtesy, cut my bonds."_
> 
> _The Silver Chair by C.S. Lewis_

The is the concept that inspired it all. What if...what if Harry were trapped within the light? 

* * *

Harry reemerged from what seemed like a very short nap to find his hands on Voldemort’s robes and the snakelike face inches from his. Blushing furiously, he took his hands away, refusing to look at anyone else in the room. Severus was perplexed as he noticed the abrupt change in the boy’s behavior, and so was everyone else. Was the boy possessed? Was he truly on the Dark Side now?

Voldemort leered down at the boy. Did he know that Tom had just sold him for a potion? He did know that Snape would have made it given the proper motivation, didn’t he? Well, all the better for Voldemort, he smirked. Sometimes he was impressed with himself.

{I shall see you later, my Harry,} Voldemort hissed at him, before addressing his followers. “You are all dismissed!”

With that, Voldemort swept from the room and the Death Eaters rejoined the merry-making above, save for Severus who left under the pretense of feeling unwell.

Harry was unsure what to think as he quietly exited the room behind everyone. His peers spared him a few frightened glances, but otherwise whispered amongst themselves.

 _Tom?_ Harry asked with an edge.

_Yes, darling?_

_What did you just do in there?_

_I thought you said you trusted me._

Harry growled inwardly. _That was before you had my hands running all over the Dark Lord!_

_Don’t worry your pretty little head over it, Harry. I’ve got it all taken care of._

_TOM!_

At the same time, Severus had crossed the anti-apparition barrier and sent his patronus ahead bearing a message for Dumbledore. He watched the silver doe bound across the hills before disappearing out of sight. He prayed Albus knew what to do. Albus always had something in mind, even if he did give the boy far too much leniency.

.oOo.

Saturday night, Harry made his way back to Hogwarts via apparition. He was still one year too young for his license, but Tom masked any evidence of his travels well enough.

The new Death Eaters were apparently staying home over the entire weekend so Harry was basically on his own as he reentered the school. Sure, he had told Professor McGonagall that he was going to take a trip on Saturday to visit some friends and the old woman didn’t bat an eyelash at Harry-bloody-Potter, but that didn’t mean Dumbledore wouldn’t want to make a sticky confrontation, interfering old coot!

Harry had just finished changing out of his formal attire and was about to grab some kitchen snacks (he didn’t trust the Malfoys to not poison him), when -

_“Stupefy!”_

.oOo.

Hermione looked to Ron, uncertainty painted on her face.

“Are you sure we’re doing the right thing?” she asked.

Ron shrugged, “Dumbledore said Harry wasn’t safe here anymore. We have to get him to Grimmauld Place right away.”

Hermione still looked uncertain as they spelled Harry’s body invisible and floated it behind them on their way to the headmaster’s office.

“Yeah, but why did we have to stun him?” Hermione asked with a furtive glance over her shoulder. “I mean, Harry loves the headmaster. He’d understand if he needed to move.”

“And he’ll understand this, I’m sure, Hermione,” Ron said with exaggerated concern. “But Dumbledore says this is a matter of _life and death_.”

Ron didn’t add that Dumbledore gave his family money every year in exchange for his unquestionable servitude.

Hermione nodded. “Yes, you’re right. Besides, we can visit Grimmauld Place on the weekends.”

“Yeah,” Ron said relieved. “ _Jelly beans_!”

The gargoyle moved aside to reveal the spiral staircase. Up the two children went, with Harry’s still, invisible form following behind.

.oOo.

“So what you’re saying, Severus, is that Harry Potter is no longer safe.” Dumbledore looked down his nose with his blue, twinkling eyes at the Potions Master who was pacing around the room.

“I’m not sure what to do, Headmaster,” Severus confessed. “Harry seems unwell, if not possessed. He was...” Snape shuddered, “speaking with the Dark Lord as if they were equals.”

“And are they?” Dumbledore asked curiously.

“No...I don’t think so. He left the boy unmarked at least, but I don’t think the Dark Lord can stay away from him for long. The boy was practically radiating power, Albus! I had never felt that type of power before from him!”

Albus stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Let us take him to Grimmauld Place and figure out what to do from there. I think your expertise in the Mind Arts will be of great use to us, don’t you think?”

Snape nodded curtly. He had made a promise to his love, Lily Evans, to keep her son safe and even _if_ the brat was insufferable and spoiled and on the verge of becoming Dark, Severus would still do anything to save him.

“From your memories,” Dumbledore continued, gesturing loosely to the pensieve they had both just exited, “It seems that Lord Voldemort requires another body.”

“Perhaps he believes that a return to his former body will persuade people to side with him,” Severus said, at a loss for any other reason. His mind was just a little preoccupied with the image of Harry’s hands on the monster’s body.

“Perhaps,” Dumbledore said pensively, “but then...perhaps he wishes to return to former pleasures.”

Snape’s head snapped up to meet his mentor’s eyes. “By pleasures, you don’t mean...”

“Yes, Severus. I recognized the look that Lord Voldemort had in his eyes when he gazed at the _thing_ in possession of Harry’s body. I have seen that same look on another powerful Dark Lord before and I know from experience that Voldemort will not stop at anything to attain what he believes is his.”

Snape shuddered in revulsion. To defile the son of Lily Evans? It was unthinkable! Disgusting!

“Understand me, Severus, that from here on out, we will be taking every measure no matter the risk to save Harry from such an awful fate.”

“I understand, Albus.”

A knock on the door brought them out of their dark discussion.

“Ah, that must be the kids now,” Dumbledore said with a smile, clapping his hands together. “Go run along now, Severus. Why don’t you get started on the Absquecorpus potion?”

Snape looked about to ask protest, but Dumbledore waved him off towards the direction of the floo. Even though he had Hermione and the whole Weasley clan wrapped around his finger in addition to Severus, he had carefully cultivated feelings of hate between Severus and the other Order members to keep Severus isolated and under his sole control. The Potions Master was too powerful and knowledgeable about both sides of the war to not keep a careful eye on, which was why he didn’t want Hermione and Ron to see their adversary now while dropping Harry off. He needed Harry’s two best friends to have total confidence in _him_ as he took Harry off their hands.

.oOo.

When Harry came to, it was alone in a small room with a single bed and a wooden chair. There was no trunk, wardrobe, clothes, or mirror in the room, but at least he was dressed in normal night clothes, shirt and pants. The spell that fixed his eyesight was still working, for now. With that in mind, he examined all parts of his room, only to learn it was literally as sparse as it looked.

He realized with growing dread that he didn’t have his wand on him, not that he didn’t know some wandless magic, but he couldn’t pretend now that he was captured for a good reason. Whoever wanted to keep him here wanted him wandless and vulnerable. He glanced at the door, but wasn’t stupid enough to try and open it and potentially alert his captors to his awakened state. Most likely, the entire room was warded against any of Harry’s magic.

The last thing he remembered was a stunner...

 _It was Hermione and Ron,_ Tom supplied, waking up from his own nice nap.

Harry let out a frustrated sigh. Of course it was.

 _Do you know where we are?_ Harry asked.

 _No clue, however..._ Tom took control for a second and took a nice sniff of the air. _It smells like old pureblood house and dust._

 _That has a smell?_ Harry asked incredulously. Old pureblood house, Hermione, Ron, which meant Dumbledore... _We’re in the headquarters of Dumbledore’s Order of the Phoenix,_ Harry said, sinking back into bed. _We are so fucked..._

Tom rolled his eyes. _Calm down, boy hero. I’m here too, remember?_

From out in the hall, they could hear a woman screeching about blood purity and filth in her house. To his surprise, Tom actually smiled. _It seems we are in the House of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black. Nothing like Malfoy Manor,_ he sniffed in disdain, _but it is Dumbledore. What did we expect?_

A second later, there was a knock on Harry’s door. Harry sucked in a breath. Should he act like he had no idea why he was here? Ask why he was being kidnapped? Act incredibly happy to be inducted into the Order of the Phoenix, even though it was fucking clear by his lack of wand and captive status that this was not why he was here?

“Harry, my boy?” Dumbledore’s voice came through the door. “I’m coming in now. Professor Snape is also with me.”

Harry found this incredibly redundant as they both came into the little room right after.

“Headmaster? Professor Snape?” Harry asked, on the blank side of innocent. They crowded into his little room, Dumbledore conjuring a plush chair for himself and gesturing for Snape to sit in the wooden one.

“Harry, my dear boy, I am so sorry to have to tell you this, but I believe Lord Voldemort has possessed you.”

Harry looked from Snape to Dumbledore, eyes searching before saying, “I don’t understand.”

Snape was looking at him with his usual compassion, which was to say none. “Don’t act dumb, Potter, though Merlin knows what the difference is. Were you, or were you not, just at Malfoy Manor?”

Harry blinked twice at him. He should have known Snape wouldn’t keep his mouth shut.

 _Traitor!_ Tom was seething inside. He wasn’t too surprised, but the part that was surprised was super surprised, mixed with hurt, and vengeance. _TRAITOR!_ Dark Lords apparently did not take to betrayal very well.

Dumbledore sighed and looked at Severus. “Do not be too hard on the boy, Severus. After all, he may have been possessed at the time.” He looked kindly at Harry, twinkling blue eyes trying to coax the truth from him. From the inner folds of his robes, he produced the black book of Tom Riddle’s diary. Harry followed the book with his eyes, swallowing. Even now he was drawn to Tom’s last host.

 _Idiot! Stop looking like you want to fuck my book!_ Tom screamed, but it was too late. Dumbledore had noticed his look and worry darkened his face.

“My dear boy, I have failed you,” Dumbledore said heavily. “Now, Harry, I am sure it’s not your fault. Severus—”

For the second time that day, Harry was frozen, immobilized so that he had no choice but to look ahead.

Dumbledore moved out of his line of vision and was replaced by black robes. Then Snape’s face hovered before his. For a second it seemed that Severus was reluctant to tear through his mind, but then Dumbledore’s whisper carried through the room.

“You are saving him, Severus...just one little word...”

Dark eyes bored into emerald, then mind-numbing pain tore its way through his mind. Tom was ready though. He had erected barriers around the resting room of Harry’s subconscious, memories pertaining to himself, in particular, and anything to do with Malfoy Manor.

Snape grit his teeth in frustration. He was a master Legilimens for fuck’s sake. He tricked the Dark Lord daily! So then, why were the only memories he had access to about Ron and Hermione snogging in the common room?

And there were many of them. Did they ever stop eating each other’s faces? At one time, he brushed up against a strand of magic that made Severus shudder in pleasure in spite of himself. And then in self-loathing. Sure, Harry was an attractive sixteen year old, nearly of age, with emerald eyes so like his mother’s...but that was the point, wasn’t it? He loved the boy’s mother. He could not possibly, could not even consider, could not even think for one second of this boy, almost man, stunned in front of him as anything other than the spawn of his love and enemy.

Even so, he was drawn just a bit closer to Harry and Tom’s magic, already so steeped in lust for the boy, though Severus was unaware of this, entangled itself around Severus’s presence. The Potions Master’s self-disgust melded with his equally as potent longing until Snape simply could not separate them anymore.

Daringly, he dove a bit too close to the magical scarlet strands that emanated from the mind’s core, maybe even wishing to brush it again and feel that wonderful warmth. He reached out, potion-stained fingers wandering towards forbidding lands, when he made contact. Pleasure mixed with shock shot through Severus so fast he was nearly hurled out of the boy’s mind. Everything became startlingly clear: this magic was foreign.

Severus stared at the strands in wonder. There was a foreign entity living, no _thriving_ , fully entwined with Potter’s own soul magic in his mind. The idea was more than a eureka, it was _liberating_. No more was the guilt over admiring Potter’s own attractiveness. The thing he lusted for was not Potter. He knew it simply could not be Potter, even if the boy’s full mouth and delicate features stirred something in him. And this, in its own way was the catalyst to free him, to let him nurture the already dark, lustful feelings he had tried to suppress...

Harry’s mind was suddenly released from the Potions Master’s rampaging through his memories. Well, at least the only memories he tainted and slashed were those of Hermione and Ron going at it.

“Severus? Severus?” Dumbledore asked frantically, “What is it? What did you see?”

Severus swallowed, still maintaining eye contact with Lily’s-no- _Harry’s_ eyes.

“Nothing of importance, but I felt...something else beneath the surface.”

The two exchanged looks beyond Harry’s line of sight, then a glass vial was placed before him, pressing against his lips.

Veritaserum.


	14. To Tell You the Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom can’t handle the veritaserum.

Tom watched through Harry’s eyes as the small vial was pressed against his lips. He had just recovered from Severus’ mental assault and already Albus seemed to have Plan B in action.

_You can fight truth serum, can’t you, Tom?_  Harry asked, as three drops fell on his tongue. _Tom? Tom?_

But Tom was gone.

Albus looked on eagerly as Harry’s emerald eyes glazed over to a dull jade. If he were correct, and usually he was, Harry was hosting a horcrux within his body in addition to being a horcrux himself. The idea of killing two birds with one stone was tempting to the Light Lord. If he could just confirm Voldemort’s existence in the boy, he could Avada Kedavra him with no one the wiser. On the other hand, that would destroy everything he had ever worked for...He didn’t really want to throw out a seventeen year old plan in the making. Instant gratification was for the weak, Albus reprimanded himself viciously.

He had planned Harry’s abusive childhood, orchestrated the boy’s political views, Merlin’s balls, he even paid for Ronald Weasley to be his friend! He was loathe to give up his big dreams of having Harry Potter, symbol of the Light, defeat Voldemort in a grand battle, gaining Dumbledore support, before Harry Potter was unanimously voted too dangerous to live. So for now, he’d wait and see what condition his weapon was in before torching him for scrap metal.

“Ah, thank you, Severus. Your skill impresses me as always,” Albus said, settling himself in the chair before Harry. Snape stood at his side so that only his crossed arms were in view. “Now, Harry, what is your name?”

“Harry James Potter.” The words were heavy on his tongue as if reluctant to be scraped off. Should he appear to not fight it? Or was the gig well and truly up? Harry tried to find that spot in his mind where Tom resided, but he couldn’t reach it. It was like swimming through molasses and Harry didn’t doubt for a second that the veritaserum also had the adverse effect of blocking him off from his more advanced capabilities. Namely, second soul communication.

“Excellent, excellent. It seems to be working, Severus.”

Severus rolled his eyes.

“Now, what were you doing at Malfoy Manor?” Albus asked figuring he would work from more recent events and then back towards the diary.

“I was celebrating,” Harry said blankly, holding back the words as hard as possible.

“Severus, perhaps another drop?” Albus suggested, peering suspiciously at Harry. “He should be telling us more than this, shouldn’t he?”

“Headmaster, I must caution you that too much can render the...subject extremely ill.” Even so, Severus administered another two drops.

Harry could feel his whole body relaxing against the bed. Damn it. Stupid Potions Master...

“I’ll ask you again, Harry,” Albus asked, more sternly this time, “What were you doing at Malfoy Manor?”

Harry blinked dumbly a few times before his mouth opened. “I had been invited there by You-Know-Who to witness the initiation ceremony. Lucius Malfoy was hosting a party upstairs to disguise the Death Eater meeting below. I walked into the ballroom and then I followed everybody to the throne room. He gave the Dark Mark to many students. Then I left.”

Albus nodded. Severus had already told him the names of the students there, so he didn’t need to waste precious veritaserum time on list making. He had already checked the boy for the Dark Mark too just to confirm Snape’s testimony so that was also redundant to ask.

“Are you keeping your magical aura restrained?” Albus asked.

“No. I am not.”

Albus and Severus exchanged a look.

“Is your magical aura restrained?” Severus rephrased.

“Yes it is.”

“By whom?” Snape continued.

“Tom,” Harry replied easily. The veritaserum pulled each answer out like water.

“Harry, my boy,” Albus began kindly, “Is this Tom, by any chance, Tom Riddle?”

“Yes.”

There was the sound of shuffling cloth before the diary was displayed before him again. After Tom had left the diary, any special properties it once had also fled.

“And does this diary of Tom’s have anything to do with the Tom controlling your aura?” Albus asked.

“Yes, Tom used to live in the diary,” Harry said, causing Severus to smirk in satisfaction. He knew that Harry had been altogether too attached to it. “I would write in it and he would write back.”

After a few moments in which Severus and Albus discovered that the diary no longer wrote back, they continued the interrogation.

“Harry, what happened in the Chamber of Secrets?” Albus asked. They were finally getting somewhere, whether it was somewhere bad or somewhere good.

“After realizing that Ginevra Weasley had stolen Tom’s diary, I began hearing voices in the wall. I realized that it was some sort of giant snake and it was talking of having a fresh meal being delivered to her. I followed the sound of the hisses to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom and figured out how to enter the Chamber of Secrets by listening carefully to her story. After entering the chamber, I saw Ginevra on the ground with the diary beside her. There was indeed a giant snake and Tom warned me that it was a Basilisk. He blinded it and I sliced it open with a simple cutting spell down the middle. We didn’t want to set off the alarms at Hogwarts if we used an unforgiveable curse,” Harry explained. “He told me that I could save Ginevra if I only let him enter my mind and give him some life force. I protested at first, but then I didn’t want Ginevra to die and I knew Tom well enough that he wouldn’t really put me in real danger. I figured I might as well let him do it since he would just try and grab another hapless victim later and I didn’t want to deal with that.”

Albus was all but cheering. Harry was still concerned about people’s lives! He wasn’t that far gone. It was all Tom’s manipulations!

“I didn’t really know what the ritual would entail but suddenly Tom just kissed me and I liked it,” Harry blushed furiously, the veritaserum not letting him edit himself. “He pressed his body against mine and it felt solid like a real body. I was stunned that he was nearly corporeal and worried that this meant Ginevra was almost gone. The next thing I knew was that I could hear Tom in my mind and he was no longer an entity of himself. We took Ginevra back to the surface and that’s when we exited the chamber.”

When he was done his retelling, he noticed that Snape looked slightly green, yet at the same time flushed. Meanwhile, Dumbledore was looking very thoughtfully at him like a bug collector examining a new kind of butterfly before stabbing it with a needle and watching it die.

“So the only way you can enter your mindscape, as occlumens call it, is through a kiss?” Albus asked. He had heard of such spells before, but they were borderline dark for they didn’t require the consent of the host.

“Or when Tom wants to come to the surface and he somehow takes me to my mindscape,” Harry added.

Albus had a very grave look on his face as the veritaserum wore off. By his calculations, Harry, Tom, and the other part of Voldemort’s soul that had always been there were all in Harry’s mindscape. That was far too many souls and minds for Harry’s body to hold and if Tom could take charge of his weapon at any time...He would have to rethink his plan.

Harry resurfaced with a feeling of overwhelming trepidation. He had just told them that he had fucking kissed Tom Riddle? Not to mention all the other secrets he was so confident they would never know. Still frozen, all he could do was glare fiercely ahead, imagining shooting laser beams into Severus’ soul.

_Tom?_ Harry asked, venturing into that place of his mind again. _Tom?_

But there was still no answer.

Albus and Severus got up slowly and exited their savior’s jail cell. How quaint.

“We are so sorry, my boy,” Albus was saying, but the words sounded hollow even to Albus’ ears. They were all on the same page now, weren’t they?

The door clicked locked behind them, triggering the release for Harry to move again. The emerald-eyed boy growled in rage. How dare they do that to him? Even after Tom, Harry still held out some hope that Dumbledore meant well in some sort of twisted way, but keeping him captive? This was a new low.

He sent his senses out, feeling the anti-apparition wards amongst the obvious anti-magic ones geared towards Harry’s blood specifically. With a cry of anguish, Harry punched his pillow and lay on the bed. For now, he was their captive. But it was only a matter of time before the old man slipped, and Harry would be ready.

 

 

 

*Since Harry had answered his name at the beginning, they know that it is Harry they are talking to and not another faction of his soul.

 

 


	15. Lifting the Veil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gives his friends a scare. But are they really friends?

 

Harry lay on the bed, eyes shut. Tom had been unresponsive for a few days now and it was really grating on him. Had the veritaserum somehow nullified Tom? Harry snorted. It was possible, but unlikely. A simple truth serum could hardly undo Tom’s ritual, steeped in dark magic as it was. Still, Harry thought it was better to be safe than sorry. He had waited until after dinner (since that was the last time any of the Order bothered him) to go into his mindscape after Tom. Undisturbed, there was a chance he could actually reach that place Tom had oh-so-helpfully shown him in the chamber. The problem was, Snape had made quite a mess the last time he deigned to mindfuck him, that everything was out of order.

Harry swam by memories of being sorted into Gryffindor, where he fairly begged the hat to hide him knee-deep in mediocrity, memories of Ginny hanging on his arm before the chamber incident, and then finally a series of memories starring Tom’s diary. He hoped this was a sign that he was getting close.

After what seemed like hours of searching through nonsensical recollections, he stumbled upon the place where the monster had been kept. The brilliant glass floor was ruptured down the middle where the golden chains had once dragged Harry to that golem, and there was what seemed to be a door at the other end of the area. Harry steeled himself before advancing.

As he neared, he realized that the door was more of an archway decorated with stone snakes. Harry rolled his eyes. If this wasn’t a sign, he didn’t know what was.

_Tom?_ Harry called, _Hello? Tom, are you in here?_ His voice echoed ominously, belying the enormity of the mindscape. Unfortunately, he couldn’t see very far in front of him before the shadows set in. _Tom?_

A loud banging had Harry jumping into the air.

“Harry! Harry, we’re coming in!”

Abruptly, Harry was thrust from his meditation and back into his holding cell just as the door opened to allow pawn one and pawn two into his room.

Harry blinked to clear his head, watching Hermione make herself comfortable on his one chair. Ron stood beside her, looking enthusiastically at Harry. Honestly, did that stupid boy think he was a dog ready to play fetch at his beck and call?

“Hello Harry. How are you today?” Hermione asked with a sweet smile.

“I heard Mum made you her special meatloaf. I swear it’s more vegetables than meat, that one!”

Harry was dumbstruck. This was the second weekend they had visited and in two weeks they couldn’t understand the situation? Wait, did this mean they were going to make this a fucking weekend tradition?

“I’m fine, Hermione, Ron. I’ve just been locked up in this room all day for the past two weeks.” He stared at them blankly, willing his sarcasm into their brains, but they refused to see it.

“Well at least you get your own room, eh?” Ron said dumbly. “School’s almost over and I heard you get to skip out on all your finals!”

“That’s not something to be happy about!” Hermione chastised, looking personally affronted. “Don’t worry, Harry. I’ll bring you notes if you want.”

“A Daily Prophet would be nice,” Harry threw in sarcastically. “I have no idea what’s going on anymore with the war.”

Hermione and Ron exchanged a look. “I’m not sure we can do that,” Hermione said. “Dumbledore said—“

Harry suddenly shot from the bed to stare at her straight in the eye. “Dumbledore said what? That I can’t handle the truth? That I should be locked here for days on end, months probably! And you’re just going to _listen_ to him?”

His former friends, if they could be called such, looked slightly abashed. Ron’s ears even turned pink. No, they couldn’t truly justify locking Harry up based on one man’s word, but it wasn’t like it was _harming_ Harry at all.

“Umm, well Draco, yes, Draco _Malfoy._ He defected from the Dark Lord yesterday,” Hermione offered. “I’m not sure of all the details because he was pretty taciturn but the gist of it seems to be You-Know-Who has some unnatural proclivities.”

“No shit, Hermione.”

“You don’t understand, Harry. It’s not just his lust for power and dark magic, but there was some talk yesterday that You-Know-Who may be attracted to _young boys_.”

“Draco hardly counts as young,” Harry replied.

“Well, he’s not of age either. It shouldn’t be surprising he’s a pedophile, but apparently it gave Draco enough of a shock to come running to Dumbledore,” Hermione continued.

“So does Draco also have a private room like mine?” Harry asked, “Because that seems to be how Dumbledore likes _helping_ people.”

“Oh yeah,” Ron said, completely unaware of Harry’s biting tone, “He’s coming to stay here later, when school lets out. But not, you know, locked in.”

Harry was ready to tear his hair out, or maybe try his luck with the anti-magic wards and silently hex them both. But what good would that do him?

“So you’re giving a Junior Death Eater with the fucking Dark Mark branded into his skin more freedom than me? Is that it?”

Hermione touched his arm lightly, “It’s not like that!” she protested.

Harry shook her hand off. “So pray tell, what is it like?”

“You’re Harry Potter! The Boy-Who-Lived! Dumbledore reckons you’ve got more magic than even You-Know-Who right now,” Ron told him excitedly, “They’re just monitoring your magic levels until after your coming of age kicks in on your 17th birthday.”

Harry didn’t even try to hold in his snort.

“What’s so funny?” Ron asked.

“No-nothing!” Harry laughed freely, “Just that you bought that!”

Hermione frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“So Dumbledore didn’t tell you the real reason he locked me up, did he? If he really cared about my transition he’d have kept me in a place that doesn’t restrain my magic and only for the week around my birthday. Why drag me out of school this early? It doesn’t make sense.”

“But Dumbledore said—” they protested.

But Harry just shook his head. “He told you guys nothing. If you really cared about me, you would have realized that.” He looked them both in the eyes and smiled, “The reason I’m being monitored is because I’ve got _him_ in my head.” He tapped his forehead, over his scar. “Not just visions, Ron, but the real _him_. And sometimes,” Harry whispered to their terrified faces, “I let him possess me.

“And I _like_ it.”

 

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus will do anything for Lily. Anything.

If you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

But make allowance for their doubting too:

If - Poem by Rudyard Kipling

 

Tom awoke with a groan, stretching his gangly arms over his body and tensing. It had been a nice two week break, letting Harry convince all of his visitors of his unjust captivity, but he started to notice his spirit-like body fading in the mindscape and there was no way in Hell he was going to be demoted to innocuous horcrux shard. No, sir! So he had suppressed Harry totally to try to undo the damage. Maybe Harry would wake later that day or tomorrow morning. Tom didn’t particularly care as long as Harry was still there.

As he sorted through Harry’s memories, he calculated that Mrs. Weasley would bustle into his private time in a few moments with a hearty breakfast. Begrudgingly, he admitted that she was a formidable witch and cook, but he still didn’t like the blood traitor.

Right on time, Mrs. Weasley announced her arrival before barging in without so much as a knock. She held a tray piled high with pancakes and other little condiments. It did not go unnoticed that she held her wand in her sleeve.

“How are you doing today, Harry? Had a nice rest, I hope.”

How could she be so damned happy? Tom wondered, knowing she was feeding a captive. A _captive!_

“I’m not sure, Mrs. Weasley. Do people tend to sleep better as prisoners?” Tom drawled, causing Mrs. Weasley to leap out of her skin.

“H-Harry?” Mrs. Weasley asked. Dumbledore had told her to keep an eye out for any unusual behavior, but so far, Harry had been pretty sedate considering being locked up for days on end. Maybe that was about to change.

“You heard me, I’m sure,” Tom said. “Bathroom breaks hardly count as being _out_ of the prison cell, don’t you agree?”

“Well, I—“

Tom rolled his eyes. “I don’t actually care what you have to say. I know I speak the truth. It’s any wonder that Harry still wants to _save_ you people after the way you treat him. Aren’t saviors supposed to be worshipped and loved?”

Molly swallowed, leaving the tray of food where it was on Tom’s bed, and backing out of the room slowly. Ron and Hermione had mentioned something about You-Know-Who being able to possess Harry through his scar. Maybe this was him now...

“You-Know-Who?” she asked, wand still pointed at the boy in Harry’s skin.

The boy smirked smugly. “I prefer to be called Tom.”

.oOo.

Albus steepled his fingers before him.

“What are you thinking, Albus?” Severus asked when Molly’s red head withdrew from the red flames.

“It is far more serious than I feared,” Albus said quietly, almost to himself. “Severus, I don’t think I have been fully honest with you about what happened in Godric’s Hollow. You see, I believe that on that fateful night, when Lord Voldemort went to kill Harry, he made an unintentional horcrux. You have heard of horcruxes, I am sure.”

Severus paled. Of course he had, but they were things of legends, myths! “You are saying that the Dark Lord’s soul is inside Harry?” he asked, “...But what about the diary? You heard him. He said Tom came from that blasted book.”

Albus nodded gravely. “That makes this all the more difficult, my boy. I believe that Harry is hosting two parts of Lord Voldemort’s soul and until those parts are destroyed, Lord Voldemort cannot be killed.”

Severus was at a loss. His jaw hung slack as he watched the headmaster stroke his beard. “But what about Harry?” he asked.

Albus paused thoughtfully. He knew he was treading on thin ground where Lily’s boy was concerned. He could simply tell him the truth, that Harry may have to be sacrificed for the greater good, but that would not enamour Severus to his plan. Of course, there was the chance the boy could be salvaged.

“Severus, there is a way. I am loath to propose it. It is a terrible thing,” Albus began.

“What is it? _Anything..._ ”

“There is a way to the mindscape,” Albus said, his blue eyes boring into onyx, “where Tom Riddle entered and where you too can enter, and maybe, we can force him out.”

“But how...?” Severus asked, voice filled with desperation. He could not bear the loss of Lily’s son, to not see her eyes alive on some being, some face, some portion of her...

“You know what must be done.”

.oOo.

In the dead of night, Harry fancied that he heard the door creak open and a shadow enter. But that was preposterous.

_Tom?_ Harry called tiredly. _Are you awake?_

_Of course, boy hero._

_Did it work?_

_Well, I am no longer fading, as you can see,_ Tom smirked.

_Why were you gone so long?_

_The veritaserum took a while to overcome, but then I was simply tired from taking over your body for so long the day we were at Malfoy Manor._

_Is it really that tiring?_ Harry asked.

_I nearly killed Ginny Weasley just by appearing before you. What do you think?_

Harry smiled to himself. That was so typical of Tom.

_What did happen at Malfoy Manor, anyway?_ Harry asked.

_Interesting question,_ Tom said with a devilish grin, _but what you should be asking is what is Severus Snape doing in our room?_

_Bastard!_ Harry growled, knowing he couldn’t keep up with Tom’s conversation knowing he was vulnerable in real life. _Don’t think this is over!_

_Wouldn’t dream of it, golden boy,_ Tom whispered, as very real, solid hands caressed Harry’s face.

Harry willed himself to stay still, but knowing the owner of those hands did very little to help him stay calm. What was Snape thinking? Harry was his least favorite student. Impudent brat. Spoiled. Attention seeking ignoramus.

But then Harry recalled the odd flush in the man’s face after withdrawing from his mind, and the odd feeling of pleasure that shot through them both as he had rubbed against Tom’s strand of magic. And wasn’t there a rumor somewhere that Snape had once loved his mother? And Harry had her eyes.

Harry felt physically sick as the warm hands, smelling of ginger and other spices, stroked his cheeks and rubbed the spot on his neck where Tom’s bite mark used to be, but it had long since healed. Any thought of innocent touching flew out his mind as Snape gently rubbed that one spot with his fingers. It was obviously a fixation. But what could Harry do about it?

“Oh, Harry...” Severus breathed, and by the puff of his breath, Harry could tell he was not far away at all, not nearly as far away as he should be at all. “Dumbledore has asked me to do a terrible thing,” Severus whispered. “I have made great sacrifices for this war, but none so great or so heavy...but how else can I keep those eyes alive and untainted by _him?_ You will forgive me I hope, after all is said and done.”

There was a pause. Harry hoped the pounding in his heart wasn’t as audible as it felt. Then Snape’s lips were by his ear, as if telling a forbidden secret.

“I loved your mother once, you know. I will save you Harry, even if it’s the last thing I do...”

Harry was stock still, willing his breath to even out. Make it look natural.

He felt a barest of brushes against his lips, so faint and quick that he could almost believe it never was. Then Severus Snape exited the room.

 


	17. Draco Finds the Door...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco finds the door and then...Dumbledore finds Draco.

Draco awoke to the wonderful smell of lemon zest scones. He had only been at Grimmauld Place for a month and then some after school had let out, but already he felt like he had always been part of the Light family. He wasn't sure when he had decided to defect if he were truly honest with himself. It might have been when his father came home, more often than not bloodied and bruised. Or maybe it had to do with the way Lord Voldemort had treated Harry at the last Death Eater meeting, like food ready to be ravished and devoured. Just remembering the way the Dark Lord's eyes had lit up with lust was enough to have him running for the hills. But no matter the exact moment that Draco Malfoy felt his heart give out, Draco knew what he had to do. Luckily, Dumbledore was still in the business of giving asylum to Death Eater dropouts and had offered him shelter for the summer.

This was how Draco found himself safely ensconced within the dusty halls of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Ron and Hermione, including the younger Weasleys stayed there as well, but there was no sign to be had of Harry Potter. Truth be told, Draco was worried about him. Sure, they had told him the Boy-Who-Lived was off training. Then they had said something about him visiting his muggle relatives. Then it had been he was still at Hogwarts, studying. All on the same day. The uneasy feeling in his gut only intensified as everyone flatly refused to speak any more than a word or two about Harry. Coupled with the Dark Lord's attention and well...Draco was worried.

.oOo.

"Oh Draco! You're up!" Molly said, spelling the butter and blueberry jam on the table. "Ron and Hermione should be down in just a minute."

"In the meantime--"

"--You can talk to us!" Fred and George chorused.

Draco smiled softly. He knew they were still wary of him, but only a little. A month worth of mutual pranks was apparently the way to a Weasley’s heart.

"Thanks Mrs. Weasley. These are great," Draco said politely. _Not as good as mother's but..._

The Weasley matriarch smiled as the other children came bounding down the stairs.

"You're finally up!" Fred or maybe George remarked, ruffling Ron's hair.

"We were kind of busy," Hermione said before flushing, "I mean, not--"

Fred and George exchanged mischievous looks.

"Looks like our little Wonny's growing up!" one of them said.

"FRED! GEORGE!" Mrs. Weasley shrieked, "That is enough! Now, Hermione dear, why don't you help yourself to some scones while I deal with these two?"

As she bustled out of the room, Ron, Hermione, and Draco seated themselves around the kitchen table.

"I heard Remus is coming later, Tonks too," Ron said between facefulls of food and tea. "Don't know why they're making Hagrid babysit us at Hogwarts."

"I know!" Hermione sighed, "What's the point in being in the Order if you don't get to attend any of the good meetings?"

Draco dipped his scone carefully in his tea, trying to appear nonchalant. If anyone knew anything about Harry, it would be these two. Never mind they obvious knew something and Draco was obviously not supposed to find out, Draco was sure tactless Ron or unstable Hermione would let something slip, eventually.

"Is this meeting about Harry training in the States?" Draco asked.

"No."

"Yes."

"Well, I mean, Harry's training," Hermione clarified.

"Just not in the States," Ron said, the roots of his ears turning red.

"Ah, I see." Draco turned away so they wouldn't notice the cogs whirring in his mind. But something was very wrong here, and the uneasy feeling wouldn't go away.

.oOo.

“Go get ready,” Mrs. Weasley said, looking at the fireplace every few minutes. “Professor Dumbledore should be here any minute to floo you guys to Hogwarts.”

“We’ll only be there until later tonight, right, Mrs. Weasley?” Hermione asked.

“Yes, so no bed clothes, Ron. RON?”

“Alright, mum!” Ron called down, exasperatedly.

Hermione, still downstairs with Draco, glanced from Mrs. Weasley to somewhere down the hall. Draco watched her closely.

“Should I—?“ she began, gesturing towards the kitchen.

Mrs. Weasley shot Draco a stricken look before shaking her head quickly. “I believe Severus, Professor Snape to you mind, has taken care of it.”

Hermione swallowed before scampering up the stairs to join her boyfriend.

“You all packed?” Mrs. Weasley asked, turning her attention to Draco.

“Yes, Mrs. Weasley.”

The woman nodded, looking into the distance. “Very well then.” She barely walked two feet before there was a knock at the door. “Oh! That must be Remus now!”

As she bustled off, Draco kept to the shadows, watching the hallway he rarely ventured down with new eyes. Then a door opened silently and his godfather, dressed all in black, crept out with what looked like a tray of empty plates. But why would his godfather be there? What were they hiding?

He watched his godfather close the door and walk towards the kitchen where he grit his teeth to greet the werewolf. Now was his chance! His breathing quickened as he glided across the hall to the room his godfather has just vacated. Immediately as he touched the handle, he was assaulted by powerful anti-magic wards, yet somehow he could sense they were not for him. With a gasp of understanding, Draco turned the handle and—

“Draco, my boy!”

Draco was whipped around to face the headmaster of Hogwarts, his blue eyes twinkling madly, but not with any benevolent intentions.

“Pr-Professor Dumbledore,” Draco stuttered out, trying to regain his cool demeanor.

“Draco, I was given to believe you were packing for Hogwarts, hmm?”

“Well, I was, but I already finished, sir,” Draco said, eyeing the headmaster’s wand warily.

“Always a smart one, weren’t you, Draco?”

“Sir?”

The headmaster’s face was so close to his. He could count the grey hairs that peppered the white in his beard. His breath reeked of sweets.

From the top of the stairs, there came a stampede of footsteps.

“Draco!”

“Professor Dumbledore!”

Hermione, Ginny, and Ron’s concerned faces peered over the edge of the railing, taking in the scene before them. Smoothly, Albus straightened, pocketing his wand in his robes like he didn’t just have it out.

“Ah, all ready I take it?” he said genially.

“Yes sir!” they chorused brightly. Too brightly. It was almost as if they knew they had to leave that instant, that something monumental happened, that, if they hadn’t interrupted, Dumbledore would have obliviated Draco on the spot. Or worse, locked him up in his own anti-magic jail cell.

Hermione, Ginny, and Ron came bounding down the stairs, shrunken bags in tow, and Draco was honestly never happier to see them in his life. Hermione locked arms with Draco before smiling up at the headmaster.

“We’re ready now,” she said, jutting his chin out.

Albus nodded. “Then let’s go...Molly, I shall return shortly!” he called as they all zipped away in the fire.

.oOo.

Albus looked gravely on them all. Shacklebolt, Moody, and Tonks were here representing the auror department, the Weasleys, an old pureblood Light family, and the others, Severus, Remus, Minerva, Flitwick, and Poppy, who represented Hogwarts. These were the people he had at his disposal. These were his warriors.

“I have called this meeting because I have some very serious news to share with you all,” Albus began. “Many of you are aware that Harry Potter did not return for his last few weeks of school this year. That is because we are helping him to recover from a terrible curse Lord Voldemort put on him.”

“Albus!” Minerva gasped, “You told us he was off training!”

Albus nodded in apparent contrition, “That is true, I told you what I thought was best to be known, but now I am telling you the truth. Severus, if you can explain?”

Everyone looked to the Potions Master who was bathed in shadow. “Mr. Potter was invited to attend a Death Eater meeting at the end of this school year. We believe that he was made to attend by the Dark Lord himself speaking through his scar. I, as my role as spy, was also at that Death Eater meeting, where I witnessed the Dark Lord possess the boy.”

Here, Minerva, Tonks, and Molly burst into tears. “Oh, that poor boy!”

Snape rolled his eyes. “Indeed, it was an unfortunate thing to befall the boy. But back to the topic at hand, we believe that Mr. Potter still has some residue of the encounter, allowing the Dark Lord to...control the boy at times.”

Molly nodded, biting her lip. Of course she was shivering, but then, how much was it fear for the boy, and how much was the guilt the welled up in her every time this Tom Riddle pointed out the injustices they did to him, keeping him prisoner.

“We think we have found a way to purge this presence from him,” Severus concluded.

“Yes,” Albus continued, “Severus and I will be performing a Cleansing ritual on Harry on his birthday, the day he comes into his majority. It will be his Cleansing Day, where he will finally be himself again. Until then, I want you to know, whatever Lord Voldemort says with the boy’s mouth, that the Harry trapped inside the monster appreciates everything you have done and will do for him. Be strong. For Harry, for the war.”

No, Dumbledore and Severus had no qualms whatsoever about lying to the Order. Not when Molly burst into tears. And not when the entire table looked about to cry. They did what needed to be done, and the worst wasn’t over yet.

 

 


	18. Cleansing Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Choices need to be made. By whom? Of what?

Molly and Tonks were busy making all kinds of puddings and trifles for Harry’s Cleansing Day. Hermione and Ginny were also drafted to help, chopping fruit, or pounding dough as needed. In the other room, Ron, Draco, and Arthur were setting up the decorations (little gold papered snitches on strings), and arranging the furniture, because apparently some of the chairs had been cursed to devour someone if they sat too long, and some of the couches were home to some nasty magical mites. The others were set to arrive in a few hours, giving them ample time to ready the dusty old house for a party.

“I can’t believe they’ve found a cure,” Hermione said, pounding dough into the table.

“I know,” Molly replied, “He’s been absolutely dreadful.” She shook her head sadly, “Thank goodness we’re getting the real Harry back.”

Even though the Order meeting had been secret, details of the night had long since come out to Hermione, Ron, and Draco.

“Well, it hasn’t really been Harry, mum,” Ginny said, “Harry saved me, remember? This is You-Know-You possessing him.”

“Yes, yes, you’re right, Ginny,” Molly said. “Well, anyway...I’m glad it’s almost over.”

After two hours, all five pies were in the oven, happily baking away. Just as Hermione was cleaning off the counter with a flick of her wand, the floo flared to life, and out stepped Remus, Kingsley, Albus, and Snape.

“Ahh! It smells delicious, Molly!” Albus gushed, as he stepped out of the fireplace in vibrant maroon robes.

“You must have had some excellent workers,” Remus winked at the girls, at Tonks in particular.

“Well, come along, go see what Arthur and the boys are up to,” Albus said, smiling at Remus and Kingsley. “Severus, with me.”

“Oh...are you going to do it now?” Hermione asked, peering around the corner.

“We think that this is best, Miss Granger,” Albus replied solemnly. “This way, our Harry has ample time to adjust and enjoy the festivities later.”

With that, Albus swept from the fireplace with Severus trailing behind him.

.oOo.

Harry sat on his bed, staring at the wall in front of him. It had become his favorite pastime in the past month and today was no exception. From time to time, he thought about that day at Malfoy Manor and wondered if the Dark Side wasn’t better after all. So what if Voldemort had stared at him like he was undressing and caressing Harry with his eyes? So what if Draco had suffered tremendous pain as he was branded like cattle? Nothing amounted to this injustice, did it? Maybe enemies could be locked up, but to the Light’s own savior?

The door creaked open, and Harry sunk within himself automatically, giving Tom full reign.

“Oh, surprise, surprise,” Tom drawled, not even bothering to deign them with a glance. It’s traitor and manipulator!” Tom rolled his eyes.

“Now, Tom, is that any way to speak to your old professor?” Albus hummed.

Tom ignored him. “What do you want Harry for this time, old man? You’ve barely visited him all summer. Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”

“I’m sorry, my boy,” Albus said as if he were talking with Harry, “but it took a long time to figure out a way to cure you.”

“Cure him?” Tom whispered dangerously. “You want to _cure_ him?”

“Severus, as you can see, Harry has gotten worse over the summer. He no longer is the dominant soul within the mindscape. We have to act now. Whatever misgivings you may have had, I urge you to get over them,” Albus said to Severus quietly. “For Lily...”

“For Lily,” Snape repeated.

Suddenly, Tom was immobilized. Snape jumped into action, tipping a potion down Harry’s throat. Tom recognized the veritaserum immediately. _Oh no..._ He could vaguely make out Dumbledore sitting back in the corner while Snape settled on the bed. Then, the potion dragged him down below, forcing Harry to the surface.

“We’ve thought about this long and hard, Harry. If you’re in there. All my life, I’ve been trying to atone for all the suffering I’ve caused your mother, but I wasn’t able to save you.” Snape reached a hand up and softly touched Harry’s cheek.

Harry, awakening from Tom’s control, could only stare in mute horror at what Snape was doing and what the touch implied. He tried to move or shout or yank away, but he found he was stuck in position, his head slightly foggy from the truth serum.

“I am sorry if you are uncomfortable, Harry, but it is the only way. You only told us there was one way to enter your mindscape and perhaps conquer the Dark Lord inside of you and that was through kissing...” Now there were two hands on his cheeks, cupping his face. “Harry, please forgive me, but this is for your own good.”

Severus’ lips descended on his, soft and velvety in texture, but forceful, on a mission. There was no tongue, but Harry wasn’t going to think about that, all he could think about was that his most hated professor was kissing him on the lips and reaching a hand in his hair. Never mind that Dumbledore was watching from the side, observing everything with a faint smile on his face.

Snape continued to massage Harry’s bottom lip between his, but no mindscape opened up for him, nothing was happening the way it should. Severus pulled back, and looked at Albus, uncaring that his face was flushed or that he loved Harry like he loved Lily.

“Perhaps there is an aspect of pleasure we must account for,” Albus murmured, shifting his robes.

Harry was unable to so much as give the headmaster the middle finger until Severus turned around and shoved Harry none too gently onto his back.

_TOM. TOM. TOM._ Harry shouted inwardly, but Tom was comatose, repelled by the veritaserum.

Snape’s hands were on his pants, unbuttoning them, unzipping them, before roughly shoving them down below his hips. Then those lips were on his again, attacking, the all-encompassing smell of moss and herbs on Snape’s breath. A hand firmly working on his cock, trying to get him to feel, anything, anything pleasant that would allow Snape to fight for him, but all Harry could do was cry, the tears leaking onto his frozen face. The hand just felt wrong. The whole situation just felt wrong. But what could Harry do? And his thoughts were becoming clearer by the minute...Another hand fondled his balls, rolling them around painfully gently. Then the hand reached back further, finding the hidden bud there...

“ENOUGH!” Tom shouted, breaking free from the veritaserum. Harry’s horror and panic had fed the soul shard just enough to strengthen him. With a cry of anguish, Tom, half in control of Harry’s body, bolted for the door, shooting his magic blindly, hoping against hope that perhaps the wards had fallen, and tumbling, pants at his ankles, into the hall of people.

.oOo.

Maybe they should have known better than to trust in Dumbledore blindly, as they saw the tears streaming down Harry’s face and his indecent appearance. Dumbledore and Severus, looking flushed and aroused, entered the hall, wands ready to strike, before realizing where they were.

“ALBUS DUMBLEDORE AND SEVERUS SNAPE!” Molly rounded on them, as the rest of the party stared horrified, immobilized. Molly Weasley rounded on them, wand brandished, when Severus shot the first strike, sending Molly sprawling. In seconds, there was an all out battle, with Harry, in shock, ushered to the side with Hermione and Draco.

“What should we do? What should we do?” Hermione asked, panicked. “Dumbledore just called for reinforcements, from the auror department! Who do you think they’ll believe? Harry who’s possessed or Albus saint Dumbledore? They won’t ask questions until it’s too late!”

Draco was shaking, looking from his godfather, cursing people left and right, to Harry, fainted. Then he looked at his arm.

“The only way to protect him now is to make sure he survives today. Dumbledore has sealed all of the exits, and it won’t be long till they’ve subdued us all with aurors and obliviated the brains out of us.”

Hermione nodded, biting her lip. “Do it.”

Miles away, Voldemort apparated.


	19. True Colors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> True Colors may not be Dark, Light, or Grey.

 

In the thick of the battle, almost no one noticed until Severus fell to the ground in agony that Lord Voldemort had arrived. He stepped in from the front door no less, dressed all in deepest black. It took all of five seconds to scan the room and figure out that the Light side had fallen to chaos until he had them all shocked into stillness.

Molly clutched Ginny to her side, unable to understand how the house Dumbledore had insisted was secure was actually breach-able by the Dark Lord himself. How much had Dumbledore lied about? Were they ever really safe? Arthur kept his wand trained on Dumbledore, not willing to keep the Light Lord out of his sight.

“Oh dear,” Voldemort murmured, stalking forward into the hall. “This is Dumbledore’s little battalion?” His scarlet eyes flickered to Albus’. “It seems I have been overestimating you over the years, Professor. But I see you are little more than...” he looked at Snape with distaste. “A traitor harborer. Tell me, were you aware that the Dark Mark supersedes even the oldest of wards? Did you know that young Draco had called me here?”

Draco and Hermione were still hunched over in the corner, protecting Harry with their bodies. Their wands were out, trained at Dumbledore and Voldemort, waveringly. They had called him here, but now what?

“My Lord,” Severus began to say, looking for all the world terribly confused.

“Avada Kedavra!” Voldemort hissed.

“Now Tom, that wasn’t very nice,” Albus sighed, “Avada-“

“Crucio!”

Albus ducked out of the way, faster than any man should have at his age. The dual was on.

As the two great powers began to fight, Harry started to stir.

“Guys? What?”

His head swiveled around, taking in the scene before him before making a decision. After months of captivity, months of hatred, Harry had chosen a side, and it was not Light or Dark. It was right.

“Give me your wand,” Harry hissed to Hermione.

Unquestioningly, she did.

_Snape’s already dead,_ Tom said, looking around. _Go for Dumbledore._

Harry frowned. _But Voldemort..._

_No, Dumbledore._

The determination in Tom’s voice startled him, but maybe it was just the adrenaline.

“AVADA KEDAVRA.”

The old man toppled to the ground, his ancient bones crushed to dust beneath the weight of his extravagant robes. Harry panted heavily before seeking the eyes of his friends. Draco nodded, acceptance in his eyes. Hermione was just the same.

“Oh god...Harry...” Ron whispered across the room. He wasn’t angry with his friend, no. Just terrified.

“I-I-I-“ Harry stuttered, before something in him shattered. He doubled over, clutching his stomach. Oh god, oh god, oh god...From out of his throat came a smokey gas which became a pillar at his side. Tom Riddle, as he had appeared in the chamber, had returned.

Draco scrambled away from him, while Hermione grabbed the wall for support. Ginny dropped to the floor in a dead faint.

“Hello, Lord Voldemort,” Tom smirked.

Harry watched them, reaching out for Tom, to pull him back, anything.

“I want the boy!” Voldemort growled. “He’s mine!”

Tom wagged his finger at him. “We had a deal, _my lord_ ,” Tom purred, running his finger under Harry’s chin and lifting it up. “ _This_ comes at a price.”

Harry froze, horrified. Was this some kind of joke? Should he follow Tom’s lead?

“I have the potion,” Voldemort confessed reluctantly, “Now hand him over.”

“With pleasure,” Tom smiled, before flicking his wrist, lightning fast, and slicing the Dark Lord in half. “Accio Rudimentary Potion.”

.oOo.

The aurors arrived to the devastating battle scene. Chairs, walls, tables...all were destroyed and bloodied.

“Dumbledore said Harry was possessed,” Moody told them gruffly. “We need to move fast.”

As one auror uncovered the headmaster’s robes, someone else found the corpse of Severus Snape. Blonde hair belonging to a Malfoy hung on the ceiling. Several Weasleys were cut open, then stacked inside each other like Russian dolls. Gruesome.

Then, they came across The Room.

In it sat a little harmless boy, staring at the wall, blankly, sadly. By his emerald eyes and lightning bolt scar, they recognized the boy-who-lived-to-be-corrupted. He made no sound as they piled into room. Only when the chained him did he cry out.

“I can’t believe one kid could’ve done all this,” someone muttered.

“But it’s Harry Potter.”

.oOo.

The dementors were locked in the adjacent room, but their chill permeated the entire building. No trial was required for this matter of utmost secrecy. Of course, the execution was public, so that no more conspiracy theories could be spread about Harry Potter. From the stands of the courtroom sat a young man with a handsome face. He watched Harry, stony faced, as he was laid down on the altar.

“The dementors will now come in,” someone announced from the control stand. “Please do not attract their attention.” The doors were opened, releasing the Azkaban guards, as wards went up around the spectators.

“That’s Harry Potter,” someone said.

“That doesn’t seem like him at all,” added another.

The dementors entered slowly, bringing with them an arctic chill. Only three are needed. Two to hold down the arms. One to kiss. As they surrounded him, Harry’s emerald green eyes shot to the man with the handsome face.

“Bye-bye, boy hero,” Tom mouthed with a little wave.

Harry shut his eyes in acceptance before ice lips covered his.

_Goodbye, Tom_.


End file.
